


you've got me seeing stars

by explosivesky



Category: RWBY
Genre: 3rd person perspective - first bit sun, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/F, i just fucknig wanted to write them happy and in love so here yall go, mutual pining and then mutual everything else, rest is blake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 11:09:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13212498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explosivesky/pseuds/explosivesky
Summary: In another life, Beacon never falls and Blake is a little less haunted.She doesn't even know when it starts, to be honest; the attraction seems to always just be there, like a possession she's owned forever with a long-faded label, the maker's mark now washed out and forgotten. Let me take you out, Yang says with a smile. Another day and it's Blake, fingers knotted in Yang's hair, sighing against her mouth.Sun never stood a chance, and the thought doesn't bother him at all.





	you've got me seeing stars

The first time Sun sees her, he’s sure he’s in love.  
   
She’s standing on the docks, staring out at the boats pulling into the harbor, and she’s _beautiful_. She’s also a Faunus; he can tell instantly - he can sort of sense others; he doesn’t really know how to explain it - but she has a bow neatly centered on the top of her head that he’s positive is covering ears of some sort. A tall blonde, a tiny girl with a red cape, and a chick with white hair stand around her; she’s laughing at something the blonde’s said, her hand covering her mouth, and Sun _has_ to know her.  
   
But the cops are on his tail - literally - so he can’t exactly stop and chat, but he _does_ give her a charming wink as he runs by, and he can hear someone giggling behind him.  
   
Mission accomplished. At least she won’t forget him, if he does manage to run into her again.  
   
\--  
   
As luck would have it, he _does_ run into her again, although luck may not be the right word. It’s late at night the same day and he’s exploring the Beacon campus when he finds her standing in front of the fountain in the main courtyard, visibly upset. She’s unraveling the bow from her hair, and he should’ve bet on it; the ribbon falls away to reveal to black cat ears. He grins.  
   
“I _knew_ you would look better without the bow,” he says, getting her attention.  
   
She turns slowly, wiping a tear away from underneath her eye. “Oh,” she says, startled, “you’re that boy from the docks.”  
   
“So you remember me,” he says, tone bordering on cocky. “Does that mean I made a good impression?”  
   
He’s just trying to cheer her up as fast as he can, or at least distract her; crying isn’t really his thing. Her lips twitch up slightly. “Not exactly,” she replies, not pulling any punches.  
   
“Ouch.”  
   
She shrugs.  
   
“You okay?” he asks, getting it out of the way. “I’m Sun, by the way.”  
   
“Sun,” she repeats, sizing him up. Her eyes fall to his tail, flicking around behind him. “I’m Blake.” She doesn’t answer his other question.  
   
“Blake,” he says. “Cool name.”  
   
She half-smiles. “Thanks,” she replies, and after a moment of deliberation, walks over to one of the benches and takes a seat. She motions for him to do the same. “I’m okay. Just had a fight with one of my teammates.”  
   
“About what?” he questions, plopping down beside her and leaning back on his hands.  
   
She admits hesitantly, “She...didn’t know I was a Faunus.”  
   
“Oh,” Sun says. He doesn’t really know about keeping that kind of secret - a tail isn’t as easy to hide. He can tell she’s waiting to see if he’s actually interested in talking to her, so he continues, “What, she wasn’t okay with it, or something?”  
   
“She’s...had a difficult history with some of them,” Blake explains vaguely. “I think it just took her by surprise. She can be hot-headed.”  
   
“Why keep it a secret at all?” Sun asks, glancing over at her; she’s staring up at the sky. “Just don’t want to face the weird looks?”  
   
“Not quite,” she says carefully, clearly debating over how much she wants to divulge. She finally settles on, “It’s a long story.”  
   
So mysterious. He can dig it. It makes her even more attractive, in his eyes. “So, what about your other two teammates? Were they cool with it?”  
   
She raises her eyebrows like it had been a stupid question or something, but drops them a second later, answering, “Well, one of them already knew, and it didn’t make a difference to the other.”  
   
“Got it,” he says. “Well, that’s good, at least. So why’d you run off?”  
   
She smiles in an amused sort of way. “Just needed to clear my head. And - well, let’s just say I wasn’t the only one my teammate was fighting with.”  
   
She’s not very forthcoming, but he can infer enough from her tone to get what she means. “It’s good that your friends are willing to stick up for you,” he says. “It’s important to have people you can count on.”  
   
She laughs once, though he doesn’t think he’s said anything particularly funny. “Yes, it is.”  
   
There’s an odd buzzing noise, and Blake reaches into her back pocket and pulls out her scroll; the blonde’s picture pops up with a text that says: ‘ _hey, im done kicking weiss’s ass if u want to come back. x’._  
   
Blake grins at the message and he pretends he hadn’t been reading it, holding in the urge to laugh. So the blonde is clearly the one who knew before, and she’s feisty, apparently.    
   
“I should go back,” Blake says, looking over at him. “Apparently things have cooled off.”  
   
“No problem,” Sun says, standing easily.  
   
“Thanks for listening, Sun,” Blake says, and gives him a sweet smile that makes his heart flutter around his chest. “I’m sure we’ll see you around. Here for the tournament?”  
   
“Yeah,” he manages to say, even though his tongue feels like a rock. “See you later.”  
   
She walks off towards her dorm and he’s even more certain than he was before: he totally loves her.  
   
\--  
   
And she’s right; he sees her and her teammates all over campus the following few days, but can’t find a time to naturally introduce himself and he’s never close enough that she notices him first. It’s frustrating; he just wants to spend time with her, but he doesn’t wanna go up to a gaggle of girls and make a fool of himself. She’s never alone, either; she’s with her team or with the blonde girl, and that’s it.  
   
He makes friends with another Faunus girl, though, who’s a year ahead of him; her name’s Velvet, and she invites him to sit with her at lunch when she finds him awkwardly glancing around the dining hall. She’s nice, and it’s good to have company, at least. Her own teammates, who are off-campus for the break, normally have a different lunch period than her during the semester, so the feeling is mutual.  
   
He’s sitting with her one afternoon when he sees Blake and her friends enter, laughing; he nods over to them and says, “Hey, I know Blake, but who are the rest of them?”  
   
Velvet glances up from her tray, following his line of sight. “Oh, that’s team RWBY,” she explains. “They’re really sweet. The girl in the red cape is Ruby Rose - she’s the team’s leader - and the blonde one is her sister, Yang Xiao Long. And there’s Weiss Schnee, of course.”  
   
_Schnee._ Bingo. She’s _definitely_ the one Blake had been arguing with, he’s sure of it; the White Fang’s been attacking her family’s company for years, everybody knows that. He remembers Weiss’s name in Blake’s text, but hadn’t pieced it together at the time.  
   
He whistles lowly. “Wow.” He watches them all sit at a table with another group of four; a blond boy, a kid who has a pink streak in his hair, a girl with red hair, and--  
   
“Is that _Pyrrha Nikos?_ ” he asks, his arm falling against the table.  
   
Velvet giggles. “Team JNPR,” she says. “Yes.”  
   
“There are some seriously cool people at this school,” Sun replies, his mouth basically on the floor, and, well, he’s definitely not approaching any of them _now._  
   
\--  
   
“Hey, Sun!”  
   
He glances over his shoulder at the sound of his name, and Blake’s walking over with the rest of her team, waving; he’d apparently left the dining hall just before them and finally entered her line of sight.  
   
“Hey, Blake,” he greets, trying to reign in his excitement. His eyes dart around the rest of her teammates; Weiss is looking at him disapprovingly, for some reason, and he isn’t really sure why. Whatever.  
   
“I haven’t seen you since the other night,” she says when they stop in front of him, and he finally has the opportunity to take them all in. “Sun, these are my teammates - Weiss, Ruby, and...Yang.” She introduces each of them in turn, but she holds Yang’s gaze a second longer than the others.  
   
The first thing he realizes is that Yang is _tall._ She’s the tallest of the four of them, and she’s also _hot._ Like, out of his league hot. Damn. Ruby’s cute, but she’s clearly the youngest, and Weiss is _also_ pretty, but she seems like a bitch and he’s not really into that. It’s like Beacon is just full of badass, beautiful girls and that’s it.  
   
“What’s up, Sun?” Yang says rhetorically, and claps him on the arm. “Thanks for hanging out with Blake the other night. That was pretty cool of you.”  
   
“No problem,” he answers, relaxing at her approval. “I’m the first one on my team to get here, so, you know, it was nice to meet somebody.”  
   
“Yo,” Ruby greets cheerfully, and her eyes fall just behind him. “Oh, cool tail,” she says sincerely, intrigued. She and Yang don’t look alike, but they share the same chill vibe. Her scroll beeps. “Hey, guys, Yang and I have to clear that class with Port--”  
   
“Ah, shit,” Yang says. “I don’t wanna get on his bad side by being late. See you later, Sun.”  
   
“Like Port is going to yell at _you,_ ” Weiss points out, rolling her eyes. “You can do no wrong, in his opinion--”  
   
Blake jumps to her defense. “Yes, but for all the _wrong_ reasons--”  
   
They start to move around him, bickering; Weiss looks at him as she walks by and says sharply, “I’m still not quite sure about you,” and he laughs awkwardly.  
   
“Nice meeting you,” Ruby calls, and Blake smiles nicely. Yang throws an arm over her shoulders, leaning in and cracking a joke they all laugh at.  
   
Damn. This school is cool as _hell._ He can’t wait until Neptune gets here.  
   
\--  
   
He’s walking back to his own dorm the next day when he spots Yang and Blake on the path ahead of him; they’re huddled together, looking at something on Blake’s scroll, and from a distance it looks like they’re debating heatedly, but--  
   
“I _promise_ we’ll go somewhere with seafood, but I’m _so_ not in the mood for Vorro’s,” Yang’s saying, flicking her thumb up and down the screen. He almost laughs. They’re talking about restaurants. “What about that ramen house off of Main Street? We haven’t been there in awhile.”  
   
“That works,” he hears Blake agree. “Their specials are good.”  
   
“I’m paying this time.”  
   
“Ladies,” Sun says charmingly, interrupting; since he’s actually met them both, he feels more at ease approaching them. They both glance up, slightly surprised, but relax when they see it’s him. Yang casually takes a small step back.  
   
“Hey, Sun,” Blake says.  
   
“What’s up?” Yang asks, grinning. “Get into any trouble lately?”  
   
He snickers. “Not yet.”  
   
“There’s still time,” Blake says, smirking, and is she - _flirting_ with him? It’s hard to tell. “If I’ve learned anything...”  
   
“Oh, come on,” Yang says, picking up on an implication he hasn’t, ruffling a hand through her hair. “I’m not _that_ bad.”  
   
Blake rolls her eyes mildly, but drops it. “Are your teammates _ever_ going to arrive?” she asks him. “You’ve been here for a week already, haven’t you?”  
   
“Tomorrow, actually,” he says, already excited. “But Neptune’s afraid of water, so he waited for an airship instead of going by boat, and the other two just decided to join him.” He pauses. “That’s a secret, though, that he’s scared of water, so, like...be cool.”  
   
They both laugh. Blake says, “Don’t worry. We won’t tell, _will_ we, Yang?”  
   
“I’m sure you’ll keep me in line,” Yang drawls casually, grinning.  
   
They’re obviously close; Sun’s enjoying their practiced, easygoing banter. It’s nicer than Weiss’s piercing stare, at least. “What are you ladies up to tonight?”  
   
“ _Trying_ to decide where to have dinner,” Yang answers pointedly, nudging Blake with her elbow. Blake ignores the jab, but shifts her weight between feet until their shoulders are brushing.  
   
She says, “We _just_ decided on ramen, Yang.”  
   
“Oh, yeah,” Yang says sheepishly, remembering. “My bad.” Blake sighs, but Sun can tell she’s more amused than annoyed.  
   
“Cool,” Sun replies, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Girls’ night out, or something?”  
   
“Or something,” she echoes, smiling coyly; it’s too subtle for him to pick up on.  
   
There’s no invitation extended, though, and he knows better than to intrude on other people’s plans; he gives them a nod and says, “Well, have good time. Maybe when my teammates get here we can all go out.” Maybe one day he’ll actually catch Blake _alone_ and he can ask _her_ out _._  
   
“Sounds like fun,” Yang agrees jovially; she seems like someone who’s always up for a party. Sun bets she’d be an awesome person to hit the town with, actually, so he’s not too bummed about the company.  
   
“You should bring them to lunch on Monday,” Blake adds. “We’d love to meet them.”  
   
“Yeah, I will!” He gets the feeling Neptune and Weiss will really hit it off; that’s gonna be hilarious to watch, and maybe it’ll keep the Ice Queen off his ass. He gives them a flick of his tail as he heads off. “See you then.”  
   
The resume fake-bickering behind him. He hears Yang start, “I’m getting mine _extra spicy--_ ” and Blake groans, for some reason; she says, “If you do, I’m not gonna ki...” but her voice grows quieter and he can’t even begin to predict how that sentence was gonna end.  
   
\--  
   
Sage and Scarlet already have plans to meet up with some different friends, but Neptune allows Sun to drag him along to the dining hall on their first official day, listening intently to every detail of his recent exploits around campus. Neptune humors him good-naturedly, asking questions about the city, the food, the people--  
   
“The best part about Blake,” Sun says, “is that she’s a _Faunus._ But that’s a secret, I think, so like...be cool.”  
   
“Dude,” Neptune says dryly, and crosses his arms, grinning. Yeah, he’s cool. Neptune is the coolest guy Sun knows.    
   
Only, they enter the dining hall to find--  
   
\--kids screaming and running out past them, trying to escape the flood of food flying around the room; Blake’s team and Jaune’s team are engaged in an all-out food fight - it’s fucking hardcore, too, Weiss slamming through a pillar as she’s knocked unconscious, _Pyrrha Nikos_ creating a monsoon of soda cans, Yang slamming a boy into the floor so hard it shatters; the fight finally ends when Ruby does some kind of insane whirlwind-type thing that bashes the other team against the wall and blasts them with debris.  
   
Glynda suddenly huffs by them, waving her wand and preparing for a lecture, when Yang crashes back through the ceiling and effectively destroys another table. She stands, giving them all a thumbs up and a wide, open-mouthed grin, and the only thing Sun notices is the way Blake looks at her and laughs, laughs, laughs. She’s so carefree.  
   
Neptune tugs on his arm. “Dude, I’m not meeting your friends like this.”  
   
They sneak back out. Sun glances back over his shoulder. Blake hadn’t even noticed them.  
   
\--  
   
“Hey, we didn’t see you yesterday,” a voice he recognizes instantly as Blake’s says from somewhere behind him. He turns and sees her standing there, smiling, holding her lunch tray in her hands. “Mind if I sit?”  
   
“Oh, hey!” Sun replies, trying to keep his enthusiasm somewhat in check; he doesn’t want to seem desperate or something. “Yeah, go ahead. We got there for the tail end of the food fight. It was pretty brutal.”  
   
She laughs cutely, setting her tray down and slipping in beside him. “I’d like to say we don’t normally get into trouble like that, but we do.” She shrugs, and smiles at the boy across from her. “Hi, I’m Blake. And you’re--”  
   
“Neptune,” he says, extending a hand. “Heard a lot about you and your friends already. Nice to meet you.” Sun’s just glad he didn’t single Blake out specifically; _that_ would’ve been embarrassing.  
   
“Likewise,” she answers nicely. “Where’s the rest of your team?”  
   
Neptune shrugs. “They’ve got other friends here, so they’ve been busy,” he says. “And where’s yours?”  
   
Someone else sets a tray on the other side of Blake’s, and Yang casually plops down next to her. “Well, this is Yang,” Blake starts, and Yang raises two fingers in acknowledgment; Ruby and Weiss follow to the other side of the table, pausing their argument as they notice the newcomer staring over at them interestedly.  
   
“Hey! I’m Ruby,” she introduces herself instantly, excitement bubbling over. “You’re Neptune, right?”  
   
“The one and only,” he says. He catches Weiss’s eye and flashes a smile. “Hey, snow angel. I haven’t caught your name.”  
   
Sun can tell he’s instantly infatuated; to his credit, Weiss seems actually receptive to his smooth lines. Then again, Sun can’t imagine anyone turning _Neptune_ away; the boy exudes charm and confidence.  
   
She smiles prettily at him; Sun’s sure Jaune is foaming at the mouth somewhere behind them. “I’m Weiss,” she says, taking the seat next to him. “It’s nice to meet you.”  
   
“The pleasure is all mine.”  
   
Score. Maybe she’ll think a little better of him now that she’s got someone else as cool as she is to take up her time and attention. Beside him, he catches Yang saying, “I got you the last fish fry,” and passing Blake a plate. “Right off the grill.”  
   
Blake grins at her. “I knew I kept you around for a reason.”  
   
“Yeah, among other things--”  
   
“Don’t say it.”  
   
Yang winks at her, and Blake rolls her eyes exasperatedly. He’s not trying to like, eavesdrop or anything, but they’re sitting next to him and they’re hilarious to listen to; they remind him of himself and Neptune, actually, the ease of friendship, the familiarity.  
   
“Hey, how long have you guys known each other?” he asks, curiosity getting the best of him.  
   
Yang glances over. “Too long, man,” she says around a mouthful of bread. “Years, I swear.”  
   
Blake doesn't even flinch as she corrects her, like the exaggeration is expected. “Since the beginning of last semester.”  
   
“Wow, really?” The answer surprises him; there’s a connection that seems deeper than a handful of months. He leans his chin on his hand as he casually observes them. “You talk to each other like it’s been way longer. Like, you’re obviously close.”  
   
Ruby starts to laugh, but he wasn’t listening to that side of the table and assumes it’s something Weiss has said; Yang and Blake both grin evenly.  
   
“We are,” Blake answers, Ruby still laughing in the background.  
   
“And now it’s like, I know too much, you know?” Yang interjects seriously, her eyes wide. “If I try to leave, she’ll kill me.”  
   
Blake exhales loudly, restraining a smile. It’s clear she’s trying not to let on how funny she finds the girl. “At this rate, it’s reversed. The longer you stick around, the more likely I am to kill you.”  
   
“That hurts, Blake,” Yang says dramatically, pointing her fork in her direction. “I beat up another first year to get you fish fry--”  
   
“I thought it was the last one on the grill--”  
   
“--And this is what I get in return. Death threats.”  
   
Blake eyes her dubiously. “Did you _really_  steal this from another first year?" she asks, an interesting cross of stern and disbelieving. "I wouldn't put it past you.”  
   
“No,” Yang says easily, smirking. “I just asked really nicely.”  
   
Sun looks across the table and locks eyes with Ruby. “Are they always like this?” he mouths.  
   
“Always,” Ruby confirms.  
   
He’s starting to wonder if he’s in over his head. They kind of seem like a package deal, and he’s not really sure he wants to get in between _that._  
   
Later, he’ll realize he was asking himself all the wrong questions, but for now, he’s content to listen to Blake laugh happily beside him.  
   
\--  
   
Neptune and Weiss become _a thing_ faster than he’d thought they would, but then again, it’s so predictable it’s almost boring. She shows him around the campus and town and even puts up with Sun trailing after them when he has nothing better to do.  
   
“I’d go hang out with Blake or something, but I don’t know her schedule,” he says after Weiss throws him a somewhat exasperated look for the third time. “What’s she got now? Maybe I’ll go wait for her.”  
   
Weiss’s mouth curls up at the corners, eyeing him devilishly. “Actually, that’s a _great_ idea,” she says, and something about her cheerful tone suggests to him that it probably isn’t. “She has Oobleck until three - lecture hall B. Why don’t you go pick her up?”  
   
It’s a trap or a trick, definitely, but he’d almost rather be fucked with than spend another minute with Weiss giving him the death glare. He holds up two fingers in a short wave and says, “See ya later, then,” leaving Weiss and Neptune to their date.  
   
He knows the building; he has the same professor with his own team and team CFVY, but on a different day. He traipses casually back across the campus, perking up when the tall arched doorway of the hall comes into view, and standing in front of it, sipping at a drink and staring at her scroll is--  
   
“Oh, hey, Yang,” Sun greets as he approaches, surprised to find her waiting beside the entrance.  
   
She looks up from her device, equally taken aback by the sound of someone calling her name, but smiles widely when she realizes it’s him. “Hey, Sun,” she says. “What are you doing here?”  
   
“I was hanging with Neptune and Weiss, but she kinda kicked me off their date,” he says, grinning. “She told me where to find Blake instead.”  
   
Yang’s eyebrows raise slightly. “Did she,” she says curiously, not like a question.  
   
“Yeah,” he says, not noticing anything amiss. “What’re you doing here?”  
   
“I usually pick Blake up from Oobleck’s class,” she says. “My days end early Tuesdays and Thursdays, like yours, so I stop and grab her an iced tea; it’s a habit from last semester.”  
   
_Damn._ That’s why Weiss had sent him - she’d known Yang would be here, and he wouldn’t get a minute alone with Blake. “That’s nice of you,” Sun says, shaking it off. “You’re a good friend. Wish Neptune would bring _me_ shit.”  
   
Yang laughs loudly - a little more than the comment deserves, he thinks, but whatever. She says coyly, “Maybe if you ask him _really_ nicely.”  
   
“Maybe,” he agrees. “But I’ve probably lost my shot, since he’s like, all into Weiss now.”  
   
She opens her mouth to respond, but the doors suddenly swing outward behind them, and students come pouring out, chatting animatedly with each other, running, laughing. Yang turns around immediately, reaching for a drink resting on the ledge behind her, her smile settling comfortably, her eyes soft. Sun glances overhead, looking for the bow--  
   
Blake barely even watches where she’s going - she’s rummaging through her book bag - but she finds her way to Yang like it’s magnetic, instinct, and Yang hands out the tea, condensation clinging to her fingers.  
   
Blake finally looks up and smiles warmly - Sun’s a little caught off-guard by the genuinity, the sincerity - and she takes a single step forward and stops, noticing Sun behind her.  
   
“Hi, Sun,” she says, and her expression cloaks itself, somehow, like it hadn’t been for him to see. “What are you doing here?”  
   
“Weiss sent him,” Yang answers airily before he can, and the two of them exchange a quick glance that he can’t decipher the cause of. “He was crashing _their_ date.” She emphasizes the word oddly.  
   
“Well, it’s alright,” Blake says nicely, apparently ignoring it. “We were just going to study in the library, anyway, since Yang has a committee meeting at four. You’re welcome to join us, Sun.”  
   
“A committee meeting?” Sun asks as they start to walk, hands clasped around the back of his head. “For what? Are you on like, Student Council or something?”  
   
“Not usually,” Yang says, releasing her straw with a _pop_. “But Team CVFY’s mission is starting soon, so Weiss and I were asked to step in for Coco and Velvet while they’re gone.”  
   
“For the upcoming dance,” Blake adds, and turns to Yang briefly. “What’d you get today? Raspberry?” she asks, extending her own drink, and they swap casually.  
   
Sun drops his arms, mind filling with a thousand other thoughts. “There’s a dance?”  
   
“Yeah!” Yang exclaims. “It’s in a few weeks. It’s supposed to be, like, some sort of diplomatic event for all the schools. A night for us to relax before we start kicking each other’s asses in the tournament.” She grins evilly at the idea.  
   
Blake merely rolls her eyes. “Oh, don’t get worked up again,” she says mildly. “We’ve got time.”  
   
“So you’re all _going_ to the dance, right?” he asks, trying only to focus on the relevant information as they wander down the pathway. “Like, you’re not planning it and then bailing--”  
   
Yang laughs. “No _way,_ ” she says. “I’m gonna look _hot_.”  
   
“Blake?” Sun prods, and she nods distractedly as she takes her own drink back, passing over Yang’s.  
   
“As much fun as I’d have _not_ going,” Blake says, and Yang pouts, “I don’t think I could take the guilt trip.”  
   
“Uh- _huh_ ,” Yang says, smirking, but catches Sun’s eye. “Don’t listen to her. She’s excited. She’s already got her dress and everything.”  
   
“Which you _made me_ buy,” Blake points out, her tone still aloof.  
   
Yang sighs exasperatedly and then, voice taking a turn he’s never heard from her before - deeper, darker, focused - says, “Because you look so _good_ in it…”    
   
When he looks down at them, he’s surprised to find Blake _blushing_ slightly, even though she pushes on. “Yang,” she says, and it sounds like a warning.  
   
Yang just grins wider. “I’m behaving,” she says, shrugging her shoulders.  
   
But Sun’s not thinking about their exchange; he’s thinking about how cute she looks when she’s flustered, her ears twitching underneath her bow, her failingly stoic expression. He doesn’t really get girls’ relationships anyway - Yang could’ve said she forced the dress over Blake’s head and it wouldn’t have meant anything different to him - but he’s learned almost all he needs. She’s going, and she’s gonna look great.  
   
“Are you going with anyone?” he asks them both, careful to make it sound broadly directed, curious and dismissive.  
   
Blake’s expression tilts into something more quizzical, and Yang raises one eyebrow, bemused.  
   
“Well, yeah,” Yang starts, before--  
   
“Sun!” he hears called behind him, and he turns, pivoting on one foot; Scarlet’s running up to him, waving his arms. “Team emergency!”  
   
Sun sighs heavily. “What now?” he asks as Scarlet comes to a stop in front of him, his hands on his knees, panting. Team emergencies for them have notoriously consisted of things that aren’t emergencies at all, like Neptune misplacing his goggles, or Sage sleeping through all ten of his alarms. “This better be good, dude.”  
   
“We locked ourselves out of our room,” he says. “D’you have your keycard?”  
   
“ _Again?_ ” Sun says exasperatedly.  
   
“Uh, you’ve done it _three_ separate times.”  
   
He scrunches his nose. “Oh, yeah.” Blake covers a laugh behind her hand and he grins sheepishly. “Okay, window open? I don’t have mine, either.”  
   
“Yup,” Scarlet says. They’d started keeping the window open after the first time they’d gotten locked out so Sun could scale it and let the rest of them in - Haven’s dorms used more like a passcode system, so they hadn’t quite managed the transition. “Neptune’s not picking up his scroll, or we would’ve asked him.”  
   
“He’s on a date with Weiss.”  
   
“Figures.” Scarlet rolls his eyes.  
   
“Well, ladies,” Sun says, turning to them, “I’m gonna go deal with this - enjoy your meeting! I’ll catch you later.”  
   
“See ya, Sun,” Yang waves, Blake smiling nicely at her side.  
   
The two of them continue on, chatting and laughing, and Sun heads off with Scarlet; he shoots a final glance back and sees Yang with an arm around Blake’s shoulders, leaning towards her, before they disappear from view.  
   
\--  
   
“Hey dude,” Sun greets when he steps out of the bathroom in his sweats and finds Neptune dropping his wallet and key on the desk. “You guys were out pretty late.”  
   
Neptune takes his goggles off. “Yeah, we ended up at this teahouse near the dock, which isn’t normally my thing, but - she’s, like, super cool, even though I don’t know her that well yet.” He finally looks up and glances around. “Where are Sage and Scarlet?”  
   
“They’re in town with Reese and Nadir,” Sun says, toweling off his hair. “I figured I’d wait for you, see if you felt like meeting up with them.”  
   
“I’m kinda beat,” Neptune admits, sprawling back across his bed. “Plus, I need to tell you something, but you’re like, _sworn_ to secrecy.”  
   
Sun raises his eyebrows, coming to sit next to him; the springs squeak underneath his weight. “Okay, sure,” he says. “What’s up?”  
   
“Weiss told me this, but she said nobody really knows, so you gotta keep it on lock. I’m serious.” He waits for Sun to lift his hands in surrender and says, “Blake’s already seeing someone.”  
   
Sun’s heart takes a dive in his chest. “No _way,_ ” he says in disbelief. “Really? Who?”  
   
Neptune raises himself up onto his elbows and shrugs. “She didn’t tell me,” he says. “She just said that Blake was already seeing someone and that it’s pretty serious between them.”  
   
“ _Damn_ ,” Sun says, still in shock. “That _sucks._ I mean, good for her, but like, bad for me.”  
   
“You really don’t know who it is?” Neptune asks. “You’ve been here a little longer - haven’t you seen Blake out with anyone? Like, no guy hanging around her a lot?”  
   
It’s Sun’s turn to fall dramatically back against the pillows. “ _No,_ ” he says. “Nobody. She’s like, always with her team or with Yang.”  
   
“That’s so weird,” he says. “You think Weiss was fucking with me?”  
   
“I dunno.” Sun ponders it for a moment. “I mean, did it _seem_ like she was?”  
   
“No,” Neptune confesses, looking down at him. “It sounded like she was telling the truth.”  
   
“Hmm.” He’ll have to be on the lookout; maybe he’s just totally oblivious. “Well, anyway, did Ice Queen tell you about the dance coming up? It’s after our missions in two weeks. Apparently it was supposed to be before, but some of the upperclassmen are starting their missions early.”  
   
“Dance?” Neptune says carefully, trying not to stutter over the word. “I know she’s on Student Council, but--”  
   
“Dude, be cool.”  
   
“You _know_ I don’t dance.”  
   
Sun sighs. At this rate, he won’t be the only one needing help.  
   
\--  
   
So, Sun watches more carefully from a distance, not really sure what he’s even looking for, and finding exactly what he’s already found: Blake spends all her time with Yang, and that’s about it.  
   
He cycles through the list of people he could ask, but if it’s as big a secret as Weiss convinced Neptune it was, he doesn’t wanna risk spreading the information to someone who doesn’t know. He even entertains the thought of asking Yang, but he knows that’d _definitely_ get back to Blake, and so he scraps it pretty quickly.  
   
He doesn’t have any classes with her, either, so he can’t get any intel that way; it turns into a vague sort of resignation after a few days of only seeing her around campus or at lunch with Yang, giggling and talking in hushed voices, heading off campus. Once, he even accidentally wanders up in time to catch her sliding onto the back of Yang’s motorcycle, and they speed off in a trail of dust, leaving Sun’s jaw hanging on the floor. Yang’s so cool she could give _Neptune_ a run for his money. She’s probably on a whole other level, actually.  
   
Neptune goes to see Weiss off on her mission, and Sun decides to tag along; maybe Blake’s boyfriend will do something similar and he’ll finally get to see the guy.  
   
He’s disappointed. It’s just the normal composition; Blake and Yang are standing off to the side, and from what he can tell, Blake’s examining Yang’s nail polish. “I _just_ did them, too,” Yang seems to be teasing her lightly, “but they really didn’t hold up against the bookshelves,” and, well, he’s got absolutely zero idea what _that_ means.  
   
Blake sighs. “Oh, as if you didn’t _enjoy_ it…”  
   
“Ladies,” Sun greets customarily at this point, grinning.  
   
Blake drops Yang’s hand, glancing up. “Sun! What are you doing here?” she asks, spotting Neptune over his shoulder. “Is your team’s mission today, too?”  
   
“Nah,” he says. “We start tomorrow. We’re junior detectives!”  
   
“Yeah!” Neptune says, chiming in behind him. “We get badges and everything!”  
   
Yang grins widely. “That’s pretty cool,” she says. “We’re doing a search and destroy mission, just past the first quadrant. Nothing too crazy.”  
   
“Shouldn’t be more than a few days,” Weiss adds primly. “We’ll be back by Wednesday.”  
   
“And you won’t have class Thursday or Friday, right?” Neptune asks. “Since all the teachers are with second-years and up?”  
   
“Yup!” Yang answers happily. “You wanna finally hit the town? It’s the perfect time. I totally know a place--”  
   
“We are _not_ going there,” Blake interrupts, eyeing Yang with a look that clearly says _you’ve got to be kidding me._  
   
“Come _on,_ Blake,” Yang whines. “I was young and irresponsible, and now--”  
   
“--You’re young and irresponsible,” Blake finishes, but she’s smiling. Yang holds a hand over her heart, gasping.  
   
“The _betrayal,_ ” she says theatrically; something about her, about Blake's expression in return, makes Sun think Yang spends a lot of time wearing masks. “I’ve _totally_ matured since I met you.”  
   
He's also beginning to feel like the two of them have forgotten the rest of them are even there; Weiss and Ruby have actually moved onto another conversation entirely, dragging Neptune in. Clearly, they’re used to being randomly ignored.  
   
Blake says, “Oh, you think so?”  
   
“Well, yeah,” Yang says, lowering her arm; her lips tilt and shift, and her smile is suddenly warm and sincere. “How else was I gonna get you to like me?”  
   
Blake rolls her eyes, but there’s something shy about it, like she’s protecting her embarrassment; her cheeks flush slightly, and he thinks he catches her fingers tapping against the inside of one of Yang’s wrists.  
   
“Like you had to do anything at all,” Blake says back, softer, and the two of them grin dumbly at each other for a moment.  
   
“Say it,” Yang says.  
   
“You’ve matured,” Blake answers. “But we still aren’t going to Junior’s.”  
   
Yang glances over and catches Sun’s eye.  
   
“You win some, you lose some,” she shrugs, and Sun has no idea what’s just fucking happened.  
   
\--  
   
Team CVFY arrives just as team RWBY is getting ready to leave, and they stop for a brief chat with Velvet, Coco only pausing for a quick hello before heading on. The girls board the airship, and Velvet catches his eye, waving happily.  
   
“Hey, Sun!” she says warmly, trotting up to him. Neptune’s standing behind him, now talking on his scroll to his mom, who’d called to check in.  
   
“Hey, Velvet,” he says. “How’d it go?”  
   
“Oh, it was fine!” she says, crossing her arms, elbows in her hands. “I had Yatsu looking out for me, anyway, so I would’ve been fine regardless. Your mission starts tomorrow, right?”  
   
“Yeah - we were seeing team RWBY off,” he explains. “They’re doing a search and destroy too, so if yours went well--”  
   
“They won’t have a problem,” Velvet confirms. “They’ve got a great team dynamic. Though, I suppose, how could they _not,_ considering Yang and Blake.”  
   
He misses the implication entirely, twisting it a whole other direction. “Yeah, true,” he says. “They’ve definitely got each other’s backs.”  
   
“Velvet!” Coco calls from ahead, apparently having stopped to wait for her, and Velvet peeks over his shoulder, waving.  
   
“Oh, sorry, Sun!” she exclaims. “I’ve got to go, but it was nice seeing you! Good luck tomorrow.”  
   
“Thanks!” he says, grinning. “Don’t go breaking the law, or you’ll have Neptune and I on your case.”  
   
She laughs as she walks away. “I’ll do my best.”  
   
\--  
   
It’s a pretty boring few days without team RWBY around. His team has a blast shadowing the inner-city police department, but aside from that, most of their friends had chosen away missions and aren’t around to hang out with afterwards. They hit up a bar on Tuesday, which is a terrible night for partying, anyway, and so they deem it only mildly successful.  
   
Fortunately, Weiss had been spot-on with her prediction; they’re back on Wednesday, unscathed, and mostly in good spirits. Mostly.  
   
He and Neptune catch them as they amble up to their dorm; Ruby and Yang are chipper as always, Weiss looks exhausted, and Blake’s giving everyone and everything the death glare.  
   
“Hey!” Neptune says brightly. “How was the mission?”  
   
“Hi, Neptune,” Weiss greets, smiling genuinely. “It went well! It was rather routine. Nothing unexpected.”  
   
“That’s good,” he says. “Just the normal Grimm?”  
   
“Yup,” Ruby confirms. “Although we saw some of those, like, mega-Grimm off in the distance, but they weren’t doing anything. We didn’t bother them, they didn’t bother us.”  
   
A dog picks that moment to stick its head out of Ruby’s backpack, and Blake bristles.  
   
“Ugh,” she says. “It would’ve been better without _him._ ”  
   
Yang meets Sun’s eyes and shrugs harmlessly, a grin across her face. “She’s not really a dog person,” she explains.  
   
Blake huffs. Ruby says, “Guess she’s gonna have to bunk with you, Yang, since Zwei’s taken a liking to her,” and the two of them dissolve into laughter.  
   
“Oh, _no_ ,” Yang says sarcastically, an arm around Blake’s shoulders, leaning in with a teasing smile. “That’s the worst scenario I can imagine.”  
   
Blake softens, forgetting her annoyance long enough to roll her eyes. “Keep talking, Yang, and we’ll be swapping bunks instead.”  
   
Even Weiss, of all people, seems to get in on the fun. “ _Someone’s_ in the dog house,” she says, and giggles at her own joke. Yang high-fives her.  
   
Blake slips out from under her arm and says dryly, “I’m going to take a shower,” and heads for the doors.  
   
“She has the right idea,” Yang says, and throws the boys a quick grin. “I’ll see you guys later.”  
   
“See ya,” Neptune says, and turns back to Weiss and Ruby, not as eager to leave; Sun watches Yang follow her, and just before they step inside he sees Yang reach out and take her hand, but it’s so quick he can’t be sure if that’s really what he’d seen at all.  
   
\--  
   
They’re late to lunch the next day, and Sun’s already deep in conversation with Velvet when they enter, chatting and joking like they normally do. Nora tosses an apple to Yang from where she’s sitting with her own team, and Yang catches it, calling something to the girl he can’t make out, but the rest of them laugh. Blake takes a seat across from Pyrrha, and Yang bends down over her shoulder, speaking to her; Blake nods a moment later, and Yang walks over to the line behind Weiss and Ruby.  
   
“Hey, Velvet,” Sun leans across the table and whispers quietly, cracking at last. “I gotta ask you something, but it’s like, apparently a big secret. I know you’re trustworthy, though, so if you don’t know what I’m about to ask you if you know, just like, pretend you don’t know.”  
   
She furrows her eyebrows, but nods at the convoluted conditions. “Go on,” she says.  
   
Sun hesitates, like he can’t believe he’s finally saying it out loud. “Do you know who Blake’s dating?”  
   
She stares at him blankly for a moment, and her lips start to twist oddly, like a mix of bewildered and amused. “Are you putting me on?” she asks cautiously, examining him.  
   
“What?” he asks, completely confused by her reaction. “No, I seriously - Weiss told Neptune it was a secret, but wouldn’t say who, and I just never see her with any guy, so I’m like - I’m out of ideas, dude.”  
   
Velvet’s expression shifts towards understanding at the explanation. “Ohhh,” she says, and looks at him pityingly. “Sun - I’d never speak out against Weiss, or make any sort of accusation, but - she’s messing with you.”  
   
“ _Shit!_ ” Sun exclaims, somehow having seen this coming all along. “I fucking _knew_ it. So Blake’s _not_ dating anyone?”  
   
“No, she is,” Velvet clarifies, and, well, maybe not. At this point his heart is ricocheting around his chest, unsure of where to land. “But she’s, erm…” she bites the inside of her lip for a moment, trying to figure out how to word it. “Sun, she and Yang have been dating for _months._ And it’s not a secret at all; everybody knows. It was kind of a big deal when it happened, at the time.”  
   
It doesn’t hurt; it doesn’t even shock him. It’s _relief,_ because at last, everything makes actual, perfect sense: their flirtatious comments, their strange looks, why they’re always _together._  
   
“Ohhhh.” He drops his arm to the table, and it _thunks_ against the wood. Blake and _Yang._ “Oh, I see!” he says, like he’s agreeing with himself. “Yeah, it’s like that! Okay, yeah, yeah, I get it!”  
   
She laughs at his outburst of realization. “Seems like you’re taking it pretty well?” she tries.  
   
“Dude,” he starts, “I thought I was going crazy. I was like, she and Yang hang out ninety-nine percent of the time, how could she even have _time_ to date someone else?”  
   
“Yeah,” she says, and relays the events to him. “It was sort of a scandal because it was pretty early on last semester, and the first years’ relationships always make the best gossip. I think they’d been on a team for maybe a month? I mean, it’s not forbidden or anything - so in other words, it happens constantly - but we just, like, never saw them coming. We placed tons of bets and they didn't make the list at all.”  
   
“Why not?” he asks, now totally enthralled.  
   
She shrugs, pondering the question. “Well, they were - outwardly opposites, I suppose, but they aren’t actually as much as they _seem_ like they are. _Everyone_ knew Yang within her first two weeks here. And they spent a ton of time together, but partners usually do, the first few months, and Blake just seemed so disinterested, you know? Not like she was above it all, but just...kind of detached.” She takes a sip of her drink. “So anyway, we don’t really know what happened, but they just showed up to class one day, and they were together.”  
   
“Wow,” Sun says, watching as Yang ambles back over to the table with two trays in her hands, setting one down in front of Blake, who smiles at her again. It’s so _obvious_. “God, I feel like an idiot. Thanks for telling me.”  
   
“Of course,” Velvet says, still somewhat sympathetic. “You’re really okay with it?”  
   
He gives her an odd look. “I mean, it hurts a little, but like, it’s not like I have any right to _not_ be okay with it,” he says. “This has been going on since before I even met her, so, I guess I don’t feel like it’s my business anymore.”  
   
Velvet smiles. “You’re really not a bad guy, Sun,” she says kindly. “I’m sure there’s someone out there for you.”  
   
\--  
   
He’s walking aimlessly down the road one evening when he spots them ahead at a ramen bar, buried in conversation; Yang’s waving her chopsticks in the air animatedly, and Blake’s nodding, digging into her fish.  
   
He thinks about crossing the street to avoid them - he doesn’t want them to think he’s like, stalking them, especially not now - but Yang calls out, “Hey, Sun!” just before he reaches them. Thankfully, she’s grinning; Blake turns to face him and also smiles nicely.  
   
He allows himself a smile in response, pausing his step briefly. “Hey, Blake, Yang,” he says, and before anything awkward can occur, he decides to get it over with. “Date night?”  
   
Yang’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Who finally told you?” she asks, unperturbed.  
   
“Velvet,” he says, and laughs. It’s so ridiculous of a situation, he can’t help himself. Blake giggles too, but Yang’s louder like him, and it feels good to be in sync rather than hovering on the fringes.  
   
“We found out what Weiss told Neptune,” Blake says, looking at him apologetically. “We’re so sorry - she can be kind of...cruel.”  
   
“Resident bitch, but we love her anyway,” Yang says, mouth still curled in amusement. “I was actually gonna tell you the next time I saw you, if you hadn’t figured it out yet.”  
   
He shrugs; what’s done is done. “No, it’s cool,” he says. “I was a little oblivious. I mean, now that I know--”  
   
“--It’s extremely obvious,” Yang finishes the sentence for him. “We get that a lot. Usually people are a little more blunt about it, though. I was kinda just waiting for you to ask her out.”  
   
“You aren’t the first to be confused,” Blake explains.  
   
“Well, that’s a relief,” he says, feeling a little more at ease. “As long as I’m not the _only_ moron around.”  
   
They both laugh. The owner calls towards them, “You, boy - staying or leaving? Need a menu?”  
   
“Yeah, he’ll stay,” Yang answers for him, surprising him. She turns back to him with a grin. “As long as you’re not gonna spend the entire meal hitting on my girlfriend.”  
   
He snickers, playing along. “No, I’ve decided it’s probably best I move on.”  
   
“How wise,” Blake says, but gestures to the stool next to her. “Go ahead, we don’t mind.”  
   
“You sure?” he asks, but takes the seat regardless. He’s never gonna turn down a meal.  
   
“Yeah, totally,” Yang says. “We spend too much time together, anyway. We’re bored.”  
   
Blake rolls her eyes, and he senses that that’s nowhere near the truth. “Uh- _huh_ ,” he says, seeing right through her, opening up his menu. “I don’t believe that for a second, but thanks for the offer.”  
   
The conversation pauses for a moment as he orders, but resumes easily enough, and it’s not as awkward as he’d thought it’d be, having a meal with a girl he’d previously flirted with in front of her girlfriend. Not that Yang seems affected by it in the slightest - and she has no reason to be, he realizes after only thirty minutes with the two of them; Blake’s, like, _in love_ with her, like can’t breathe, can’t eat, can’t live without her love. Maybe that’s a little dramatic, but the principle stands. Affection from a distance is easy to spot, but intimacy up-close is something else entirely.  
   
“So why can’t we go to Junior’s?” he asks, when the topic of hitting the town comes up again.  
   
Blake sighs. Yang says, “Okay, look, we _totally_ can. It’s fine now. He and I are cool. Just, you know, the first time I went, I was looking for someone, and it was just a whole misunderstanding--”  
   
Blake says, “She brought me once, and when we walked in, the entire security team was pointing guns at our heads.”  
   
“Okay, but _after_ that, it was pretty fun,” Yang says. “Admit it. We had a great time.”  
   
“We did,” Blake says reluctantly. “It was nice to let loose for a night.”  
   
“ _You_?” Sun says jokingly. “Underage drinking? Aren’t you seventeen?”  
   
“I don’t mind breaking a few rules,” she shrugs harmlessly. She and Yang are more alike than he’d thought, and it explains a few things. “Or laws.”  
   
Yang laughs. “We only have another year,” she says. “Well, not even - I have ‘til summer, Blake only has, like, another month. But Junior doesn’t mind turning a blind eye once in awhile.”  
   
“I totally wanna go,” Sun says. “C’mon, Blake, I’m sure you can keep your girlfriend out of trouble for a night.”  
   
“I can barely keep her out of trouble for an hour.”  
   
“It’s a laugh riot with you two,” Yang says sarcastically. “I get it. You can’t date her, so you side with her. That’s fair. I’ll allow it, even if at my expense.”  
   
Blake laughs, and drops a hand onto Yang’s knee under the table; he pretends not to catch it, pretends not to notice the way it calms Yang instantly.  
   
“Hey, can I ask you guys something?” he says, struck by the action for reasons he can’t explain.  
   
“Yes,” Blake says, because Yang’s mouth is now full; she looks at him and nods.  
   
“How’d you two even, like, happen in the first place?” he asks, glancing between them; mild curiosity lights up both of their expressions, and they turn to each other for a moment. Yang swallows, brow furrowed in thought.  
   
“Like, how did we start dating?” Yang offers, trying to figure out his angle. “Or how did we meet, or...?”  
   
“All of the above, I guess,” he says. “Velvet said it was like, a big deal when people realized you were together, because nobody saw it coming.” He nudges Blake with an elbow. “Apparently you came off as ‘too disinterested.’”  
   
Blake snickers at the information. “Unsurprising,” she says, amused. “I suppose it probably _did_ look that way from the outside.”  
   
“I loved her from the first moment I saw her,” Yang declares, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a loud kiss to her cheek.    
   
“Okay, I’ll tell it,” Blake says, but smiles at the gesture.  
   
\--  
   
It isn’t _really_ love at first sight; it’s more akin to intrigue.  
   
Yang comes over and introduces herself and her sister, attempting to make small talk, or be friends, maybe, or something else along those lines, and Blake just can’t stop _thinking_ about her.  
   
Positive energy, she reasons with herself. She’s tall and beautiful and _happy,_ which is a quality she’s not used to seeing so freely in other people. She commands attention without asking for it; she’s openly affectionate towards her sister in an unconsciously pure sort of way, lacking selfishness or competitiveness.  
   
Yang’s just genuine, and there’s something to that, she thinks.  
   
So she picks her.  
   
She hears Yang calling out as she walks through the forest, like she’s on a casual stroll instead of a mission; Blake watches her take down a Grimm with a brute strength that makes her heart pound with adrenaline, even though she isn’t the one fighting. She comes in at the end in a finishing blow and a small grin, locking eyes with Yang purposefully, and Yang only shrugs and smiles, like she’s allowing it.  
   
\--  
   
They _are_ friends first - that’s the important part.  
   
There isn’t a lot of time between being friends and being _together,_ though; maybe a month and a half. Yang never tries to force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do, but doesn’t treat her like she’s incapable of fun, either. She finds just as much pleasure in indulging in Blake’s hobbies as her own; she’ll read books Blake recommends and talk with her about them, and she listens to Blake’s opinions like everything she says actually matters.  
   
(The first time it happens, it’s a little unsettling, nerve-wracking; Yang plops down next to her at lunch and asks, “What are you reading?” and tilts her head, eyes skimming the title. “‘Out of Fire’?”  
   
Blake blinks over the top of her book, but dog-ears the page; she’s not rude enough to ignore Yang while she’s the only one here. She likes Yang well enough, but feels like she never learns anything about her aside from what’s presented; not that she ever pries, either. She stumbles over, “Oh, uh - yeah,” unsure of how to react to the attentiveness.  
   
Yang asks, “What’s it about?” and she’s not feigning interest; she’s waiting expectantly for a response, seemingly intrigued.  
   
“Well,” Blake starts, thumbing through the pages, “it’s about a girl who thinks she’s soulless, in a way. People in her world are born and reborn with a driving purpose and motivation that they’re aware of from a young age - they call it a soul’s resolution. Something that takes over your whole heart. But the main character doesn’t think she has one, until she meets this other girl, and…they find it each other,” she finishes, strangely embarrassed of touching on the topic with Yang; she’s not sure of the correlation, only that there is one. “Of course, there’s the usual exciting stuff, monsters and wars and things to overcome.”  
   
Yang’s looking at her curiously, thoughtfully, her plate untouched. She says, “So it’s a love story?”  
   
“Yes,” Blake answers dutifully.  
   
“And it’s between two girls?” she asks.  
   
“Yes,” Blake says.  
   
Yang lowers her stare to the cover. “Can I borrow it when you’re done?” she asks, and offers Blake a smile. “Sounds like it’s up my alley.”  
   
Blake raises her eyebrows mildly, taken aback. “Really?”  
   
“Yeah,” Yang says. “I haven’t picked up a good book in awhile. You’d be doing me a favor.”  
   
“Okay,” Blake agrees, easing to the idea. “I’ll let you know when I finish. It’s really good so far.”  
   
“Great!” Yang says, finally letting her enthusiasm show, as if she’d been afraid of scaring Blake away with it. “Thanks, seriously. Feel free to share anything else you’re into, too. I’m always up for recommendations.”  
   
It’s such a foreign concept to her - someone investing their time and energy into things that she enjoys - that she doesn’t quite know what to do with it, only that it lights up places inside of her the eye can’t see, her chest warm, the insides of her wrists thumping like her heart has traveled to her hands. She says, smiling, “Sure. I’ve got a few things I can lend you.”  
   
Yang stares for a moment, like she’s been caught off-guard by something, and her own mouth softens slightly; she says, “You know, you have a really cute smile.”  
   
Blake blinks, and the back of her neck feels warm, rising up to her face, the top of her head, her ears; Yang only grins, and turns to Ruby and Weiss as they drop to the other side of table, winding each other up in an argument.  
   
_And it’s about two girls? Sounds like it’s up my alley._  
   
Later on, lying awake in bed and staring at Yang’s arm hanging over the bunk above her, Blake wonders if Yang had been trying to tell her something; maybe it’s time for her to listen.)  
   
She doesn’t really know when it starts, to be honest. It always seems to just _be_ there after that, like a possession she’s owned forever with a long-faded label, the maker’s mark now washed out and forgotten. She tries to unravel it at the source and find theories instead: Yang smiling at her for the first time; Yang dragging her outside on a nice day, their hands linked; Yang picking up details about her like treasured objects, her favorite color, her sleeping habits, her avoidance of the past.  
   
Yang takes her out to tea, meals, random errands, casual walks and asks her questions that don’t feel like bullets. _Where are you from?_ _Do you have siblings? What do you like to eat?_ and Blake will tell her, sometimes without knowing why, only knowing Yang won’t look at her any differently no matter what she might hear.  
   
They’re studying for a quiz on Blake’s bunk one afternoon - Weiss and Ruby are probably out pushing each other’s buttons somewhere - and Blake’s long ago stopped being surprised by Yang’s intelligence. She’d picked up pretty quickly that Yang was some combination of mother _and_ sister to Ruby, keeping up to date with her studies, trying to stay out of trouble - mostly - and attempting to lead by example.  
   
“Yang.” Blake takes the pencil out from between her teeth and scribbles down an answer on her practice test. “Who’s the leading professor in evolutionary Grimm theory? I’ve forgotten her name.”  
   
Yang doesn’t even glance up from her own paper, lying on her stomach beside Blake, feet lazily kicking in the air. “Mistral, or Atlas?” she asks.  
   
“Atlas.”  
   
“Uh, Professor Kastala.” Yang examines the list of questions. “Is that on here? I don’t - oh, are you sourcing her for fourteen b?”  
   
“Yes,” Blake says, quickly filling it in. “And twelve is true, right?”  
   
“Yeah.” Yang leans her weight over, slightly tipping into Blake’s lap. “What’d you put for fourteen a?” she asks, her hair spilling across Blake’s thigh. “I’m trying to make the argument that it’s both the intensity of the emotion and the amount of it - that they can, at times, level each other out.”  
   
“No, I wrote something similar,” Blake assures her, ignoring the odd way her heart thumps in chest. “Like, twenty slightly anxious people versus five extremely agitated ones is balanced.”  
   
“Okay, cool,” Yang says, going back to her own paper, and they continue to work in silence a little longer.  
   
Blake looks up again to ask about the essay question, but she finds Yang’s head in her arms, eyelids shut, breathing evenly. The sight strikes her in a way she doesn’t expect it to; it hurts, somehow, but in a good way, like she’s been gifted the time to observe Yang in a state nobody else has, if only temporarily. Her worksheet lies flat in her lap, suddenly forgotten; she props her elbow against her knee, chin resting in her palm, and watches her.  
   
She’s not sure how long she stares, lulled into comfort by her own idle thoughts and the sheer tranquility of the moment; there's something about the sudden peace that keeps her light, the present feeling burdenless and open. Yang’s lips eventually curl into a lazy smile, slow to spread.  
   
“I can feel you watching me, you know,” she murmurs, voice heavy with sleep.  
   
Blake doesn’t blush, doesn’t shy away; it’s not said like an accusation, but rather an acceptance. She says quietly, “I didn’t want to wake you up.”  
   
“Thanks.” She stretches slightly, adjusting her head. “Your bed is comfortable.”  
   
“You can sleep a little longer,” Blake says, and she doesn’t know why she says it, only that the image of Yang asleep next to her has given her a certain sense of possibility, perspective. “It’s only four. I’ll wake you for dinner.”  
   
Yang opens an eye, grinning up at her, and clumsily reaches out with one hand to grab Blake’s fingers. “I’ll take you out,” Yang mumbles. “How’s that sound?”  
   
“I hardly think me acting as your alarm clock warrants a meal,” she says gently, careful to keep her tone low, not wanting to disturb the atmosphere. Her fingers feel warm against Yang’s, nerves tingling underneath her skin, her blood slow and burning.  
   
Yang giggles once, eyelids fluttering shut again. “It does,” she says, and nothing else.  
   
She doesn’t take back her hand, and Blake never moves hers, either.  
   
\--  
   
Yang takes her to the ramen house off main street - “Order whatever you want, seriously, it’s my treat,” she says - and Blake’s mouth waters reading the menu; she's a sucker for fish, and some of their specials are loaded with it. She hadn't realized how hungry she'd been, either; apparently staring at Yang for an inordinate period of time had worked up her appetite. That's something she won't get into.  
   
“So,” Blake starts teasingly, “is this your subtle way of getting me out on a date?”  
   
Yang only winks; she’s impossible to catch off-guard, like she’s never known shame or embarrassment or the rejection of love. “If that’s what you want, sweetheart.”  
   
Blake laughs, her ribcage suddenly too tight. “You’re ridiculous.”  
   
“You started it.”  
   
Blake rolls her eyes lightly, acquiescing. “How’d you find this place?”  
   
Yang shuts her menu, apparently having decided on what to get. “I stopped here after a run one day,” she shrugs. “I don’t mind going out by myself.”  
   
Blake wonders what that’s like: enjoying your own company enough that it doesn’t torture you, or drag you backwards, kicking and screaming. She imagines Yang strolling through streets and alleyways, stopping in shops, her mind occupied with less consequential things. Or, at the very least, distant from her trauma, like she’s grown enough to move past it.  
   
“I wish I was like that,” Blake admits casually, just as the owner pops over to take their orders. Yang answers with a large smile, whereas she’s more polite in her expression.  
   
Yang says, “You don’t like to be alone?”  
   
“I do and I don’t,” Blake says, pondering her own internal conflict. “I...overthink too much, when I’m alone, and it’s exhausting. But sometimes other people just feel...draining, I guess. Like they're exhausting to be around.”  
   
“I understand,” Yang says, and somehow, Blake believes her. Yang rests her chin in her palm, looks at her with gentle lavender eyes too much an echo of the sky overhead, and continues, “I hope I don’t have that effect on you.”  
   
It isn’t a test or a challenge; it’s a genuine concern. Blake says honestly, “You don’t,” and suddenly finds it hard to sit still. “No, you make me feel...the opposite, actually. I don’t get tired of you at all. You make me feel...calm.”  
   
Yang’s smile burns softer in the dimming light. “That’s how you make me feel too, you know,” she says quietly, and Blake’s surprised to hear her sound almost shy. “Just like - you put me at ease.”  
   
They sit in silence for a moment, staring at each other bashfully; Blake fights the sudden urge to reach out and take her hand, like it’d mean something, prove something. It’s on the verge of weight when Yang says loudly, “So, you think we knew each other in a past life, or something?” and Blake laughs, and laughs, and laughs.  
   
“It’s definitely possible,” she says, as their food is set in front of them.  
   
\--  
   
It becomes harder and harder to ignore, but she does it anyway.  
   
They’re a month into classes when Blake walks out of her lecture and finds Yang standing just outside, drinks in her hands, smiling brightly.  
   
“Hey,” Blake says, surprised. “What are you doing here?”  
   
“I stopped for an iced tea since my day ended early, and decided to just grab you one too,” she says, and passes Blake a cup. “Green tea and peach, right?”  
   
Blake only blinks for a moment, caught off-guard by the gesture. “Yeah,” she says, her hands feeling hot despite the chill from the ice. “You remembered?”  
   
“Of course,” Yang says, giving her a playful look. “I remember everything about you.”  
   
Blake forces a small laugh, trying to match her mood. “Why’s that?”  
   
“Because I think it’s important,” Yang says. “Plus, then I don’t have to waste time texting you about what you want.”  
   
“Oh, so it’s about efficiency,” Blake infers dryly, because it’s safer than what she wants to say, which is _why are you doing this at all; there must be more, there must be more_.  
   
“Exactly,” Yang says, grinning. “You wanna drop your stuff back in our room before dinner?”  
   
“Yes, please,” Blake answers, and they begin to walk off, heading down the grassy path. She glances over at the pink liquid swirling around Yang’s cup. “What’d you get? In case I want to return the favor, one day.”  
   
“Strawberry, but I’m down to try anything,” she says, and Blake attempts not to stare openly at her lips wrapping around the straw. She releases it and asks, “Want a taste? It’s pretty good.”  
   
“Sure,” Blake says, reaching for it, and feels her face burning as she sips from the same straw, Yang waiting for her approval. It does nothing to cure the sudden sandstorm in the back of her throat. “That _is_ good,” she says unsteadily, passing it back. “Refreshing.”  
   
“You okay?” Yang asks suddenly, stopping in place, looking concernedly at her. “Your face is flushed.”  
   
It makes it worse, if anything. “I’m okay,” she says, smiling to alleviate Yang’s worry. “It was pretty cold in the lecture hall, so the sun must be hitting me a little hard or something.”  
   
Yang places the back of her hand against Blake’s forehead, sweeping under her bangs. “Hm,” she says, and drops her arm a moment later, fingers barely brushing Blake’s cheekbone.  
   
It feels like something that should’ve been an accident, but Yang bites her lip briefly and says, “You don’t have a fever or anything, so I’ll buy that,” and her own cheeks stain slightly pink.  
   
“Are _you_ okay?” Blake asks back, and maybe this is it, maybe this is the moment - Yang opens her mouth to respond after an agonizing second of silence, and then--  
   
“ _Yang!_ ” Ruby rushes up behind them, jumping onto Yang’s back, and the possibility of what she might have said vanishes in an instant.  
   
\--  
   
Yang’s a flirt, Blake reasons to herself after awhile. She never _sees_ Yang flirting with anyone else, but she can’t reconcile it as a lone act concerning _her,_ and so she doesn’t. Yang _loves_ to flirt with her for what Blake imagines to be the sheer amusement of watching her try to navigate it.  
   
They’re grabbing dinner in the dining hall a little later than normal - they’d both had a test that afternoon that ran late, and had told Ruby and Weiss not to wait for them - and they’re going over the answers in line when an upperclassman Blake doesn’t recognize taps Yang politely on the shoulder, interrupting.  
   
“Sorry, excuse me,” he says. “Yang, do you have a minute?”  
   
“Oh, hey,” she says. “Sure. Uh, Blake, you wanna get a table and I’ll meet you in a few?”  
   
“Alright,” Blake says, and leaves her to it; she takes a seat with a view directly over to where the boy has dragged Yang, and watches the scene unfold, nerves clustered in the pit of her stomach. He’s rubbing the back of his head as he talks to her, looking embarrassed; Yang’s expression reads as surprise, and quickly turns awkward. She shifts her weight between feet, still holding her tray in her hands. She glances towards Blake briefly and back, and says something that has him appearing dejected, but it looks like it ends gracefully enough. He inclines his head and she waves him away, smiling, and then she’s making her way over to where Blake’s pretending she wasn’t just staring intensely.  
   
“What was that about?” she asks casually, feigning disinterest as Yang slides in beside her.  
   
Yang shrugs uncomfortably. “He, uh, wanted to ask me out,” she says, eyes locked on her food in front of her. “But I told him I wasn’t...interested.”  
   
Blake’s stomach uncoils, tension she hadn’t known she’d been holding relaxing. “Why not?” she asks, because it seems like the normal thing to say.  
   
Yang glances over at her, and her face is pink, heat radiating from her body. “Actually, I already - um,” she starts to say, and shakes it off before she can finish. “He wasn’t my type,” she settles on instead.  
   
“Oh?” Blake says, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “So who’s your type?”  
   
Yang appears emboldened by her teasing, embarrassment fading and confidence taking its place. She meets Blake’s eyes. “You,” she says with a wink, and Blake freezes, lips stuck in a smile, heart thundering around her body. Yang laughs; she’s always most at ease knowing exactly where she stands.  
   
“Hilarious,” Blake deadpans, angling towards comedic.  
   
Yang leans closer, her mouth curling into a smirk. “I'm not joking,” she says, voice dropping seductively. “You’re intelligent, you kick ass, _and_ you’re beautiful. You’re thoughtful and you care about things - _really_ care about them, not just pretend to for show like most people do. You put up with me day after day and indulge my ideas and interests, even if it’s stuff you don’t normally pay attention to.” She draws closer as she speaks, and Blake feels her bravado waning, heartbeat quickening dangerously against her ribs, between her lungs. Her lavender eyes are soft, somehow conveying truth, but her tone - her lips--  
   
“Why _wouldn’t_ you be my type?” Yang finishes, gaze darting to Blake’s mouth and back in a way that is _distinctly_ sensual, and Blake swallows once, overcome, flustered, words failing her--  
   
Yang finally breaks and laughs. “Relax, gorgeous,” she says, smile wider than ever. “I’d never back you into a corner like that.”  
   
It dawns on Blake that Yang hadn’t _actually_ said that she was kidding, and so she says, “Good, because I’m not exactly a fan of public proposals,” and a banter of wit resumes.  
   
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Yang says, still smirking. “Was I headed in the right direction, though? I mean, everything I said about you is true.”  
   
Blake’s off-balance again at the admission, replaying the speech in her mind; _beautiful, intelligent, kick ass._ Yang's funny but she isn’t one to be cruel, and Blake has no reason to doubt her sincerity, which shakes her all the more. It's not like she's never been _complimented_ before, but hearing it from Yang, knowing it isn't drenched in expectation - there's so little space between them; Yang's so damn  _cocky_ \--  
   
Yang’s watching her reaction out of the corner of her eye, and Blake sees her smirk draw tighter, like she’s trying to stop it from being noticeable; the realization that Yang’s getting a kick out of toying with her grants Blake a certain sense of ego. She decides she’s tired of being the one always caught with her guard down.  
   
So _she’s_ the one who leans in, and Yang’s unprepared for it; her eyes widen ever so slightly, and Blake says coolly, “Oh, yes,” with a dangerous curl of her mouth. “If we hadn’t been here in the dining hall, I probably wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands off you,” and Yang’s so shocked she can’t answer at all, only stares blankly. Her face remains relatively blush-free, but her aura flares up noticeably, burning up in the air between them, and that’s how Blake knows she’s won.  
   
She swings her legs around the bench. “Forgot a knife,” she says casually, and traipses off, leaving Yang sitting dumbly behind her.  
   
\--  
   
She’s alone in their room, lounging in bed on her scroll on a rainy day - Weiss and Ruby had decided to brave the dining hall - when Yang bursts through the door, sopping wet in her raincoat. She shakes off the hood and says, “Blake, get dressed. We’re going out.”  
   
Blake eyes her dubiously. “Yes, because _you_ look like you’ve been having an absolutely lovely time out there.”  
   
Yang snickers once, bending over Blake’s bunk and extending a hand. “Come on,” she says. “Up you go. I promise you’ll love this.”  
   
Blake only sighs, but doesn’t argue; Yang wouldn’t push her if she weren’t telling the truth. She pulls on her boots and grabs her own coat out of the closet, ignoring the way Yang’s dripping water all over the floor. “Okay. Do you need an umbrella?”  
   
“Hm?” Yang asks, and then glances down at herself, like she’s just noticed how wet she is. “Oh, no - I have one, but it was nice walking around in the rain.”  
   
It’s so endearing, something Blake wants to capture and save like a diary entry or a photograph; she takes Yang’s hand instead, allowing the girl to lead her outside. She pops open her umbrella and Blake steps to her side, linking arms.  
   
“So where are we going?” she asks, admiring the view of the landscape glittering, quiet and untouched.  
   
“You’ll see,” Yang says ominously, guiding her along. “I found it when I got lost searching for the post office, and I knew I had to bring you.”  
   
“Okay,” Blake says, lips curling. It’s strange to hear someone say _this made me think of you._ “Well, I trust your judgment.”  
   
“I’m well aware of the wrath I’ll face if I’m wrong,” Yang jokes, and tosses her a sly glance. “I know you hate the rain.”  
   
Blake clutches her arm tighter, struck in the throat with the pressure of everything she’s struggling not to say. Nobody’s ever cared before, she thinks of telling her. Nobody’s paid enough attention to notice.  
   
Instead, she only says, “At the moment, I’ve found I’m rather enjoying it.”  
   
Yang’s step falters so slightly Blake’s sure she’s imagined it, and they press on.  
   
\--  
   
It’s a bookshop, but that isn’t all it is; the store reads as an antique, as if it itself has its own ancient history, simmering lightly underneath the surface. Blake falls in love with it immediately. There’s a table and cozy armchairs tucked in a corner near a fireplace for reading, and the shelves are so tightly packed they’re bursting, with books that are so old they’ve gone out of print. Various types of games litter the shop as well - cards, board sets, dice. The owner greets them kindly as they enter, an older woman with a kind smile and crow’s feet stretching the skin beside her eyes.  
   
“Oh, welcome back!” the woman says. “I see you really _did_ bring your friend.”  
   
“I did,” Yang agrees, grinning at Blake’s jaw hanging open, lips parted in surprise. She explains to Blake, “You said the other day you’d almost finished your latest book, and I know you don’t have anything else new to read.” She lifts and drops her shoulders like it’s nothing. “Plus, the selection on Harbor was never that great, anyway. And this place - the atmosphere of it - just reminded me of you.”  
   
Blake turns to her, mouth curled up at the corners. “I suppose I’ll give you a pass today,” she says playfully, keeping up appearances. “This wasn’t a bad excuse to drag me out in the rain.”  
   
Yang pumps a fist. “That means she _really_ likes it,” she tells the owner seriously as Blake wanders down an aisle; the owner asks her something Blake can’t quite make out, despite her heightened hearing, and Yang’s answering laugh is nervous, her voice suddenly lowering.  
   
Blake doesn’t think much of it until Yang’s back at her side, face flushed and avoiding eye contact, and it’s so unexpected that she entirely forgets to ask.  
   
\--  
   
Yang buys a series she’d been recommended to read by the owner - it’s about a group of adventurers lead by a woman with the rare and powerful gift of illusionism in a world of dwindling magic, she explains on the way back, the two of them once again arm-in-arm.  
   
“That’d be nice,” Blake says candidly, boots splashing through puddles as they navigate the streets together. “To have a power like that.”  
   
“You think?” Yang stares thoughtfully off in the distance, waiting for the light to change despite the emptiness of the street. “I don’t know. I like to - know _why,_ I guess. I like seeing the truth of things.”  
   
“I think there are things I don’t want people to see,” Blake says before she can stop herself, too caught up in the ease of conversation. Or maybe she’s taking a risk. Maybe she _wants_ Yang to ask, tempt her need for answers.  
   
“Oh yeah?” Yang asks, shooting her a curious glance. “Like what?” A pause. “Not that you have to tell _me,_ or anything, I wasn’t really thinking--”  
   
Blake’s step stutters, and then halts entirely. Yang makes it a few inches past when she feels Blake’s arm slip out of her grasp, and then she pauses, making sure the umbrella doesn’t leave Blake subject to the rain.  
   
She takes Yang in, her blonde hair flowing loose under the hood of her orange raincoat, lavender eyes peeking out, probing softly, lazily, and says, “I’m a Faunus.”  
   
Yang only blinks, and without missing a beat, says, “Oh, cool. Actually, I’ve been having trouble with Oobleck’s essay on the uprising. I understand the history of it, but I’m a little hazy on the politics of it now, and I don’t feel like I’ve been able to find sources I trust.” When Blake doesn’t reply nor move, stunned by the response, Yang kicks a foot through the water and says, “Or we can pretend like this never happened, if you regret telling me.”  
   
“No!” Blake says, louder than she means to, but the idea of holding onto that secret any longer sounds worse than if Yang had rejected her completely. “I didn’t - I didn’t expect that, is all. I’ve been... _wanting_ to tell you.”  
   
Yang observes her for a second, without judgment or accusation, and asks, “Did you think I’d look at you differently?”  
   
“No,” Blake says again. The rain patters against the umbrella, flowing down the sides. “I don’t know. It’s just - a reaction I’m always waiting for, I guess.”  
   
“Nothing could change how I feel about you,” Yang says, and Blake’s heart throbs once, her blood pumping a little faster; it's almost uncomfortable in her chest, the sudden pressure of a feeling she's been denying for weeks. “People have their pasts, don’t they? But we’re partners and I trust you, and if you feel like you have to hide who you are, then I’d be dumb to think you didn’t have a good reason for it.”  
  
“I wish more people were like you,” Blake says, more to herself than to Yang, voice swaying as if she’s on the verge of tears.  
   
Yang laughs once. “I don’t!” she says. “Then you’d be off hanging out with them, and where would I be? Bored and lonely, probably.”  
   
“No,” Blake says quietly, smiling at the ground. “I’d still choose you.”  
   
They don’t make a motion to move just yet, like the moment is still ongoing, like there’s more to be unearthed between them; finally, Yang works up the courage to ask, “Can I see?”  
   
“See?” Blake says, not understanding for a second, still wrapped up in her pulse pounding like a drumline. Somewhere there's an orchestra on the overgrown battlefield of her past. “Oh--”  
   
“No, forget it,” Yang interrupts quickly. “I shouldn’t even have asked. It’s not my--”  
   
“Yang,” Blake says, because she recognizes _why_ Yang had picked the time to ask; they’re completely alone on the street, not a single other soul having dared chance the rain, and it’s less of a risk than even being alone in their dorm room. “I don’t mind.”  
   
Yang looks on as Blake draws back her hood, keeping her expression neutral; she unties the ribbon around her ears, and tries to fight the urge to automatically flatten them against the cold.  
   
Yang’s eyes dart up, hold, and flicker back down to Blake’s own; Blake prepares herself for the usual kind of response - this is the test if there really were one; will Yang reach out, will she laugh, will she pick an adjective she’d also use to describe a household pet - but she only smiles softly, and doesn’t say anything at all.  
   
Blake’s face _burns_ for reasons she can’t comprehend, or can comprehend but was hoping she wouldn't have to; Yang furrows an eyebrow, apparently attempting to decipher the shift in the expression on Blake’s face.  
   
“That’s it?” Blake says disbelievingly, and Yang now looks as confused as Blake feels.  
   
“Uh, thank you?” Yang tries, not really sure what’s going on. “Did I embarrass you? You’re blushing.”  
   
“No!” Blake says hotly. “You - you did everything _right,_ and I don’t - I’d been so _prepared_ for this to be hard.”  
   
Yang sort of appears to short-circuit, absolutely lost in the conversation. “Did you want me to, like, run away from you or something? I mean, I can do it for show, if you want to hold the umbrella--”  
   
“ _No,_ ” Blake says again, but she’s half-laughing at the comical misinterpretation of intent behind what she’s trying to get across. Yang laughs too, because she can’t help herself, and lightening a situation is what she does best. “I just meant - it’s _you,_ do you understand? I thought if - you panicked, or made some insensitive comment, or - _anything_ , I could get over it. I could move past it instead of...instead of it becoming _worse._ ”  
   
She bites her lip, fully aware of what she’s just confessed to. There’s a long silence punctuated only by the patter of rain, and the weight of the two of them staring at each other. “Do you...do you understand?” she asks again, somewhat desperately.  
   
She can’t say it, but it’s there; it’s always been there, hovering under everything, the attraction, the longing, the _want_. She’s not an idiot. She knows why her ribs finally feel like a cage, why the sun rises between them when they touch, why Yang’s the only person she’s never tired of. Why she feels like she could run to her and pour out her soul and Yang would hold it in her arms and soothe it.  
   
Yang takes a single step towards her, eyelashes fluttering down, head tilted to the ground. “Maybe,” she says cautiously, quietly, and goes no further.  
   
Blake can only exhale, hands held away from her sides, finger spreads in a subtle exasperation; Yang’s close enough that Blake can feel the heat exuding from her body, catch the expectation lingering in her eyes, and she raises her arms, cupping Yang’s face in her hands, and kisses her.  
   
It’s a little clumsy until Yang comes to her senses enough to respond, and then she breaks away, tilting her head the other direction, and _that_ feels right; Yang curls an arm around her waist and holds her close, umbrella still shielding them in her other hand. Yang kisses the way Blake has always imagined she would: hot to the point of sensuality, lips that know exactly what they’re doing, softer than she seems like she should be.  
   
Yang cuts it off, breathing unsteadily, eyes glassy and dazed. She murmurs, “Um,” and then laughs, looks at her, kisses her again. Blake can feel her grinning into it, wider and wider, until it becomes too much to ignore.  
   
“What is it?” Blake says, also smiling without being able to stop herself.  
   
“I really like you,” Yang says, “but I didn’t think it was mutual.”  
   
Blake asks seriously, “Oh, what gave it away?”  
   
“Shut up,” Yang says, laughing a little breathlessly. “I wasn’t expecting you to make the first move. I thought I’d just, like, snap one day and do something stupid and reckless, and hope for the best.”  
   
“I’m a constant surprise.”  
   
Yang rolls her eyes. “Obviously.”  
   
Blake leans in and kisses her again, more comfortable with the display, still reeling in the thrill of novelty and reciprocation; her heart is finally beating in all the right places, and Yang’s is thrumming below her skin, and it feels _good._ Blake isn’t used to goodness without guilt or sacrifice, but here, finally, it’s just the two of them alone, pressed together underneath the rain.  
   
\--  
   
They resume walking back towards their dorm, arm-in-arm again; she’d debated taking Yang’s hand, but it’d felt too overwhelming in the moment, too fresh to overcome. They’re both rather flushed, and Blake’s bow is neatly back in place.  
   
They don’t talk too much until they reach the outskirts of the campus, and then Yang says, “We don’t have to, like, decide what this means yet, or anything. I mean, should we - like, we should talk, right? Make sure we’re on the same page?”  
   
Blake thinks of everything Yang doesn’t yet know and automatically pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, anxious. “Yes,” she says. “I think - talking is probably wise.”  
   
“Okay,” Yang says, relaxing slightly. “Like, we can take it slow.”  
   
“There are things I haven’t told you,” Blake says before it burrows alive inside of her.  
   
“You’ve confessed enough today,” Yang replies immediately, tossing her a quick, soft smile. “You can tell me when you’re ready. There are things...I want you to know, too.”  
   
“Okay,” Blake echoes, and smiles back. “So we’ll - keep this between us, for now?”  
   
“Absolutely,” Yang says, gripping Blake’s arm as they step across a particularly wide puddle. “I’d kind of like to know what’s going on before I have to tell anybody about it.”  
   
“I’m glad we’re in agreement,” Blake says as their dorm comes into view, and it creates a hollowness inside of her, like the minute they step inside they’ll be faced with the reality of their normal lives, and she hasn’t yet navigated how to work her dream of the afternoon into it.  
   
Yang seems to think something similar, because she stops just outside of the building entrance, pulling Blake back to her; she presses her palm against Blake’s cheek and all Blake comprehends is the dusk of her eyes and her breathless “Sorry, I’m sorry,” before her lips are on Blake’s again, gentle, aching.  
   
“It’s okay,” Blake says when she breaks away. “It’s not like I don’t - want it.”  
   
“I just really - I really didn’t think you were into me like that,” Yang says again, accompanied by a rare shy smile. “So now I feel like - I don’t know. Like when we go back to our room it’ll be like nothing changed.”  
   
“It won’t be,” Blake says, unsure of whether it’s comforting to say so or frightening; perhaps it’s a bit of both. “I thought I was imagining things - that I just liked you so much I’d see signs where they didn’t exist.”  
   
Yang snickers. “No, you weren’t crazy. I didn’t think I was being very subtle about it.”  
   
“It’s hard for me to recognize,” Blake says, tone growing quieter; Yang senses the weight immediately, expression fading into contemplation. “I’m used to...it looking a little different.”  
   
Yang stares at her a moment longer. “Okay,” she says finally, understanding. “Well, for me, that’s what it looks like. And hopefully what it will continue to.”  
   
It’s so _easy_ to talk to Yang, and it makes her never want to stop, but she’s forced to when she hears someone laugh from just inside the entry hall. They shift side-by-side, not too worried about suspicion as they _are_ standing in the rain; the doors swing open a moment later and Jaune’s team comes piling out, excitement written across their faces.  
   
The pause when they see Blake and Yang, colliding into each other. “Hey!” Jaune says. “Wow, I thought we were gonna be the only ones stupid enough to go out in this weather--”  
   
Yang grins. “Nope,” she says. “Welcome. Join us.”  
   
“What are you doing out here?” Blake asks.  
   
“Semblance training,” Ren says. “Nora’s going to try and channel the electrical energy from the storm.”  
   
They both blink owlishly; Nora’s smile bares teeth. “Oh, _yeah,_ ” she says gleefully. “It’s gonna be _awesome._ ”  
   
“We’ll probably be safer inside,” Blake says.  
   
“Probably,” Ren confirms.  
   
“What were you two doing out?” Pyrrha asks, hands on Jaune’s shoulders, peeking out from behind him; they’re still clustered in the doorway.  
   
Yang raises her bag. “Running errands,” she says casually. “And I like the rain.”  
   
“Cool,” Jaune says. “Well, if you wanna watch, we’re gonna be on your side of the building, so you should be able to see her from your window.”  
   
“Great.” Yang flashes a smile, beginning to move around them, taking Blake with her. “We’ll definitely be on the lookout. I bet it’ll be hard to miss.”  
   
Nora laughs, and it comes out sounding like a maniacal growl. “Let’s go let’s go let’s _go,_ ” she says impatiently, and tugging on Ren’s arm. “I have work to do.”  
   
The group goes splashing off with a wave, laughing happily. Blake tips off her hood once they step inside, wiping her boots on the mat as Yang shakes out her umbrella. “They’re crazy,” she says, but her tone is one of admiration.  
   
“I know,” Blake agrees stoically. “Who’d want to go out in _this_ weather?”  
   
Yang throws her a sly look. “I think it was worth it,” she says.  
   
Blake presses the button for the elevator, eyes lowered and smiling to the ground. “Me, too.”  
   
\--  
   
Weiss and Ruby are both back; Ruby’s lounging on her bed, now wearing pajamas despite it being four in the afternoon, and Weiss is studying at her desk, pouring over her notes from the day before. They glance over when Yang and Blake enter, and Ruby throws up a wave.  
   
“Yo,” she says. “Where’ve you been?”  
   
“Went out,” Yang says casually. “You know I’m a fan of storms.”  
   
“And you forced Blake to enjoy it along with you?” Weiss says, looking grateful for an excuse to take a break.  
   
“No, I went willingly,” Blake says. “It was fine.”  
   
“Must be colder than when we were out,” Ruby says. “Yang, your lips are all red. Need lip balm? Weiss probably has some.”  
   
“I do, but I feel as if you meant that as an insult,” Weiss says. “It’s on the dresser if you need it, though.”  
   
Yang’s tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip, and it’s a gesture only Blake notices and knows the reason for, and she resists the urge to do the same. “I’m okay,” Yang says. “Thanks.”  
   
“We ran into Nora, Ren, Jaune, and Pyrrha downstairs,” Blake changes the subject. “Nora’s going to try getting struck by lightning, if you want to watch - they’re right outside.”  
   
Ruby nearly falls off her bed in excitement, scrambling for the window. “Hell yes!” she exclaims. “Weiss, c’mon, check this out - there they are!”  
   
Weiss, surprisingly, does as she’s asked without complaint, placing her hands against the window seat and leaning forward. “They’re insane,” she says, sounding both horrified and impressed.  
   
“I’m gonna record this,” Ruby says, pulling out her scroll.  
   
Blake’s hanging up her raincoat - Yang’s is already hooked off the back of the door - and she’s caught by the sight of Yang shaking out her hair, letting it fall loosely down her back, more wild than usual. She imagines tangling her fingers in it, Yang’s mouth against hers, her hands--  
   
Yang turns and sees her staring, and she seems surprised for a moment, her expression darkening mysteriously. There’s some kind of explosion outside, Weiss and Ruby _ooh_ -ing and _ahh_ -ing appropriately, and Yang uses the cover to whisper quietly, “You can’t look at me like that.”  
   
Blake swallows, mouth drying out. “Like what?”  
   
“Like you want me,” she murmurs, and half-smirks, gaze traveling down Blake’s body and up. “Hang in there, Blake.”  
   
“Oh,” Blake breathes out, “fuck you.”  
   
\--  
   
The rest of the night is torture. Weiss and Ruby don’t leave again, opting to order in for dinner, and she and Yang can’t be too close together without the air suddenly getting warm, tension rising. Neither of the other two seem to notice anything amiss, though, and it saves them a great deal of lying and explanation.  
   
They’re in bed - Ruby’s snoring lightly, and Weiss had actually fallen asleep long before the rest of them - but Blake’s wide awake, staring at Yang’s hand thrown over the edge of the top bunk. The fingers suddenly move, startling her, tapping against the wood.  
   
She taps against her own headboard in response. Yang whispers, “Are you up?”  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
Yang’s arm lifts and her head appears where he hand had been. “Can’t sleep either?”  
   
“No.”  
   
Very carefully, Yang swings her legs down, lowering herself off of her bunk, feet hitting the floor quietly. Blake often forgets how graceful Yang can be because she doesn’t usually try for it, but they all have to embody fluidity to some extent to do what they do, fight how they fight. Blake scoots up against the headboard, not unnerved, but expecting. Yang leans over her.  
   
“I came for something,” she whispers conspiratorially.  
   
“And what’s that?” Blake asks back, eyes darting to Weiss’s still form across the room.  
   
“Take a guess,” Yang says.  
   
“I’m not having sex with you,” she says. Yang chokes on laugh, and Blake’s covering her mouth with her hand. She says, “Keep your voice down.”  
   
“Well, don’t make jokes,” Yang says, breathless. “They sleep like the dead, anyway.”  
   
Blake fists her tank top in her hand and pulls Yang down, meeting her lips easily in the darkness; Yang smiles, hands cupping her cheeks. When Yang finally returns to her bunk, Blake sleeps peacefully.  
   
\--  
   
It’s still pouring the next day, and it’s Sunday, which essentially embodies all the possible lazy elements that can coexist. They all sleep in until at least nine, and Yang doesn’t get up until ten, when Ruby and Blake take turns throwing various pillows and stuffed animals at her from Ruby’s bunk, Weiss half-heartedly helping by handing them soft objects.  
   
“Okay, maybe not,” Ruby says, when Weiss distractedly hands her a stapler. Yang flips them off as she rolls out of bed, but catches Blake’s eye and winks.  
   
Ruby somehow ropes them all into a video game tournament with Jaune’s team that afternoon, and Blake takes the time to watch Yang as she is, carefree in her competitiveness, yelling in victorious exclamations of excitement when she defeats Nora and Weiss back-to-back.  
   
“Blake!” Ruby calls. “You’re up. You against Yang.”  
   
“Oh, fu--” Yang cuts herself off, just realizing where they are in the order. “Let’s go, Blake. Unless you’re afraid you’re gonna lose.”  
   
Blake smiles and takes the controller from a stewing Weiss. “I _know_ I’m going to lose,” she says, taking the seat next to her. Yang tosses her a grin, and her eyes flick down to Blake’s mouth for the briefest of seconds.  
   
“That’s the spirit,” she says. “Accepting your fate. I respect that.”  
   
The game starts, and it takes only seconds for it to be clear that she's about to be easily destroyed; under the guise of stretching out her leg, she brushes Yang’s knee with her own, and it distracts her enough for Blake to cut her head off. Yang only stares for a moment, and then looks over at her with an expression torn between incredulity and disbelief.  
   
“The evil has been defeated!” Nora screams, shaking Yang’s shoulders. “Blake reigns as our rightful champion!”  
   
Yang says, “I am _so_ getting you back for this,” and Blake at least has the decency to fake the barest hint of regret.  
   
\--  
   
(However, as Blake’s win had essentially come from cheating, she loses immediately to Ren right after. Yang stands up from where she’d been sitting against Weiss’s bunk on the floor and calls, “Blake and I are gonna do a vending machine run. Who wants what? And pony up the lien, this isn’t a free treat.”  
   
Nora asks for four energy drinks - _get her three,_ Ren mouths - and Ruby asks for six different brands of candy. Weiss is in the middle of saying something about saltless chips when Yang holds up a hand. “Okay, change of plans. Ruby, text me everyone’s orders. I can’t keep track of this mess,” and drags Blake out the door, Ruby saying _aye-aye captain_ in the background.  
   
“We’re alone,” Yang points out as they walk down the hall.  
   
“How astute,” Blake says dryly. “Is this where your plan ends?”  
   
“Oh, no,” Yang says, darkening, and her fingers grasp the end of Blake’s shirt, tugging her to a halt. “That was a pretty dirty trick.”  
   
“You were impressed,” Blake says. “It’s something _you_ would’ve done.”  
   
Yang smirks. “Maybe,” and backs her against the wall, the only noise the sound if the distant thunder and the vibration of the vending machine. Blake allows it, her hands resting comfortably on Yang’s hips. “What if this is my plan?” Yang asks. “Is that okay?”  
   
“I’m not objecting,” Blake says mildly. “But pick a mood, please, because the cross between _sweet_ and _sexy_ is beginning to confuse me.”  
   
Yang rests a finger underneath her chin, tilting her jaw up, and her lips look more dangerous than the rest of her. “I think I can manage that,” she murmurs, and leans in to kiss her. Something about being pressed to a wall with Yang’s body against hers starts to eat at her, gnawing like the want is tangible inside of her, like it has its own mouth, its own teeth, its own tongue. Yang’s scroll vibrates in her back pocket, right below where one of Blake’s hands is now resting; Blake dips her fingers in, sliding it out with a smirk as she pulls away, and dangles it in front of Yang’s face.  
   
“Orders are in,” Blake says candidly. “We don’t want to raise suspicion, do we?”  
   
Yang grins, but her eyes retain that hooded, open desire; she says, “Fuck you.”  
   
“ _Now_ we’re on the same page,” Blake says, and Yang laughs, turning to the vending machine.)  
   
\--  
   
By Monday, the storm has mostly passed, but the sky retains its grey hue, clouds still flooding heavily through; classes give them a bit of a respite from the intensity of the weekend, of constantly being in each other’s space and aware of it. Blake picks her up from Oobleck’s lesson, and Yang’s frowning slightly, a little flustered. She smiles brightly when she sees Blake, but it lingers just below.  
   
“What’s wrong?” Blake asks, surprised at the expression.  
   
Yang pulls a face again. “Can we hit the library before dinner?” she says. “And - I totally get it if you don’t want to - but I _really_ could use help with Oobleck’s essay.”  
   
“Oh, no, of course,” Blake says, easing her. “I don’t mind at all. It’s - I appreciate it, actually.”  
   
Yang looks instantly relieved. “Thanks, seriously,” she says as they start to walk off together. “It kind of - got heated during the lecture. People started arguing about the White Fang, and Faunus rights, and - I don’t know. All those kids on Cardin’s team are a bunch of assholes.”  
   
“Cardin’s an asshole, so that’s no surprise,” Blake says, scowling, trying not to tense up at the mention of the White Fang. “What’d they say this time?”  
   
“I mean, they didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about,” Yang answers, annoyed. “They said that their abilities make them a threat to humans, and that the violence incited by the White Fang only proves them right. So I was like, uh, why do you think that violence came about in the first place, dumbass? Like, peace wasn’t working, we drove them to this by treating them like shit for all these years.” She glances nervously at Blake. “I hope that was right.”  
   
Blake smiles more broadly than the speech deserves, but hearing Yang stick up for people like her - for her - creates a lightness within her, an airiness composed of an overwhelming joy and inherent fear. She says, “Did you really call him a dumbass?”  
   
Yang laughs, but her face reads as sheepish. “Yeah,” she says. “Oobleck told me off, but I saw him trying not to smile.”  
   
Blake raises a hand to the top of her head, ruffling her hair. “I’m both proud and impressed.”  
   
Yang blushes at the gesture, glances at her. “You know,” she says, oddly flustered, “you’re the only one in the world who could get away with a move like that.”  
   
Blake smiles. “I’d hope so.”  
   
\--  
   
“They’re a subsection of violent extremists,” Blake’s saying quietly as Yang pours over her notes. “The White Fang isn’t actually a terrorist organization; their basis truly _does_ lie in equality and peace between races. The Uprising occurred because equality was promised, but instead of equality, the discrimination took on a different form - a subtler form. And that sort of thing isn’t as easily stamped out. It’s internalized. It’s why people like Cardin and his team get away with bullying. People don’t know enough about what’s right to intervene.”  
   
“People are stupid,” Yang whispers vehemently, scribbling down points for her essay. “Like, it’s clear who the violence started with, and it wasn’t with the Faunus. And I mean - look, I don’t support hurting innocent people. But I can understand why - fighting violence with violence seems like the only answer, when nothing else is working.”  
   
“It’s difficult to have patience when it doesn’t seem like patience is granting you results,” Blake confirms, and bites her lip, the memory of Adam’s fingers twitching on his sword, his restlessness, his recklessness clawing at the corners of her mind. “It’s difficult to undo so many years of - hatred. Both expressing it, and being on the receiving end. The Uprising was a turning point, but it didn’t do nearly enough, and I think the mindset is more like...we’re running out of ways to be taken seriously.”  
   
“I understand,” Yang says softly, now gazing at her. “That must be frustrating.”  
   
“I have to tell you something,” spills out of her mouth, and Yang raises her eyebrows; Blake’s neck is suddenly warm, her face flushing, her heart pounding so hard it hurts. She says, “I was a member of the White Fang. Before I got here.”  
   
Yang seems surprised at the information, but intrigued; she says, “ _That’s_ why you know so much about it.”  
   
“Yeah,” Blake says. “I was - born into it, I guess you could say. And I thought what we were doing was...was right. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t even close.”  
   
Yang pieces that together without needing further explanation. “Oh,” she murmurs. “You were in - the group that split off, weren’t you.” She doesn’t phrase it like a question, but her tone isn’t accusatory; it’s sympathetic, and it calms Blake’s anxiety.  
   
“Yeah,” Blake whispers dully. “We...didn’t start off that way. I had a partner - Adam. More like a mentor, actually. He’s the current leader of that chapter of the White Fang. He was someone very dear to me, and he changed - it wasn’t in an instant; it was gradual. He had all these excuses...little things that began piling up. At first, they were accidents, and then self-defense, until I even believed that he was right.”  
   
Yang watches her as if from a distance, like she’s seeing things Blake isn’t offering up and taking them all in. She asks softly, “Was he more than just your partner?”  
   
Blake swallows and says, “Yes.” Yang doesn’t say anything else, only inclines her head, waiting for Blake to continue. She says, “I thought I loved him.”  
   
Yang says, “You don’t anymore?”  
   
Blake raises and drops her shoulders halfheartedly, trying not to cry. “I don’t know,” she says miserably. “Meeting you - being your friend, being a little more than that - none of it is _anything_ like Adam.”  
   
Yang taps her pencil against her paper. “What was he like?” she asks, and pauses; “Sorry, again, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to--”  
   
“No, it’s fine.” Blake shakes her head, pulling the memories from the grave she’d buried them in. “He...treated me like a possession. Like a ‘thing’ he could own, a prize or something. He was controlling and manipulative, but because he was the leader, the instinct to question his orders wasn’t there at first. When my parents left the White Fang, they tried to get me to leave, too, but I refused. They didn’t trust him, and they were right not to. Eventually, I realized that.”  
   
“He sounds like an asshole,” Yang says, and accidentally snaps her pencil in half. “Ah, shit.”  
   
Blake’s mouth curls at a corner. “That’s something I love about you,” she says softly. “You don’t hide anything behind a mask. You tell me about how you feel, and even if you don’t, it’s not as if you’re trying to stop me from seeing it. I like - knowing where I stand.”  
   
“Well, if _that’s_ what you wanna know,” Yang drawls, and lifts her hands, measuring space between them vertically. “You’re up here--” she wiggles her fingers on the hand raised higher “--and everyone else is _waaay_ down here.”  
   
Blake laughs, but reaches for her fingers, dragging them down to her lips. She quietly kisses Yang’s knuckles once, and releases her. Yang smiles tenderly at her. “You’re cute,” Blake says.  
   
“I like making you smile,” Yang says, and reaches for a new pencil. “Thanks for...trusting me. I know that wasn’t easy to talk about.”  
   
“I wanted you to know,” Blake repeats her earlier sentiment.  
   
“And obviously I’m not gonna tell anyone,” Yang adds. “It’s yours to share, not mine.”  
   
Blake surreptitiously glances around the library; they’re alone at their section of tables on the second floor, tucked closer to a corner, and any other students aren’t paying them the slightest bit of attention. Blake curls her fingers around the back of Yang’s neck, and draws her in for a kiss, their knees bumping against each other under the table. Yang kisses her back, and when she pulls away, the air is suddenly much warmer between them.  
   
Blake rolls her eyes, knowing that sign well enough after three days cooped up in a room together. “You’re here to study, not fuck me between bookshelves.”  
   
“Fuck,” Yang says, laughing under her breath. “Can you leave me alone? I can’t control it. This is _so_ not fair.”  
   
“Okay, firecracker,” Blake says, grinning. “Back to your work.”  
   
\--  
   
Blake may have run out of her own secrets, but it doesn’t mean there aren’t any left between them to reveal.  
   
They make it to the end of the week without much obvious change, but plenty of progression. They’re more comfortable around each other, learning how to share and navigate space without becoming blushing, bumbling messes. Yang stops essentially erupting like a volcano every time Blake touches her, but still gives off a feeling akin to being beside a warm fire.  
   
They’d had a rough sparring class that day, and none of them really want to go out; Blake picks up a book she’d been trying to finish but been distracted from, and Weiss journals at her desk. Ruby and Yang are throwing marshmallows into each other’s mouths from their respective bunks, keeping track of points.  
   
“How many points do I get if I get it down your shirt?” Ruby’s asking, snickering.  
   
“It’s not a hard target,” Yang says, and Blake laughs from below. “No points.”  
   
“Damn.” Ruby tosses one and pulls a face, signaling her miss. She opens her mouth wide; Yang hits her in the eye. “Ouch.”  
   
“My bad.”  
   
“This much sugar _can’t_ be good for either of you before bed,” Weiss points out. Yang throws a marshmallow at the back of her head. “Hey! Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”  
   
“Nope,” Yang says, her tone a little icy. Weiss doesn’t notice, just harrumphs and turns back to her diary.  
   
“She’s dead,” Ruby says. Weiss freezes.  
   
“I’m sorry,” Weiss says, and she looks sincere. “I shouldn’t have been so callous.”  
   
“I think your skin looks great,” Ruby answers, completely misunderstanding. Yang doesn’t say anything else at all.  
   
\--  
   
Yang develops the habit of dropping down to kiss her once everyone else is asleep, but she doesn’t that night. Blake can hear her awake, tossing, sighing, thinking. Finally, Blake’s the one to slip out of bed, gracefully climbing halfway up Yang’s bunk.  
   
“Hey,” she whispers. Yang’s eyes gleam back at her in the darkness.  
   
“Hey,” Yang exhales, clearly troubled.  
   
“Can I come up?” Blake asks.  
   
“Yeah,” Yang says, sitting up slightly. “Yeah, of course.”  
   
Yang moves over to make room for her, and Blake curls up against her side, partly because Yang’s upset and party because she’s cold. Yang understands what she’s doing and her aura flares up a little more noticeably.  
   
“So,” Blake says, because Yang never needs more than that for a prompt.  
   
Yang’s quiet for a moment, and then says, “You know how Ruby said our mother died?”  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
“ _Hers_ did,” Yang emphasizes. “ _Mine_ didn’t.”  
   
Blake’s arm slips across Yang’s stomach. “Oh,” she says. The thought had crossed her mind - Yang and Ruby don’t look alike in colouring, but they have the same smile; enough disparity between similarities and differences for speculation.  
   
“Ruby and I have different mothers,” Yang explains softly. “My mother, Raven, was on a team with our dad and Ruby’s mom, Summer. She left just after I was born; he got with Summer soon after, and then Summer had Ruby, and then Summer left on a mission, and she never made it back.” She pauses; Blake can feel her muscles tensing. “I always wondered why Raven abandoned me,” Yang says, and she winds her arm around Blake’s back, hand curling on her hip. The touch seems to comfort her, and Blake rests her head on Yang’s shoulder, drawing closer. “Like, what was it about me that she thought wasn’t worth it? But dad refuses to talk about her, and it’s like - some days, I feel like I’m never gonna get answers.”  
   
“It’s frustrating,” Blake says quietly. “I can understand that.”  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
“But you know,” she continues, “one day you’re going to be old enough and independent enough to demand them, Yang. Your dad might still think of you as a kid for now, but you won’t always be seen that way. One day, you’ll be able to find your own answers.”  
   
Ruby lets out a loud snore from the other side of the room, mumbling something in her sleep. Yang glances over, but Ruby doesn’t stir any further, so they both ignore it. Yang sighs. “I guess that’s true,” she says finally. “I’d never thought about it that way before. It’s hard to be patient.”  
   
“Patience has never quite been your expertise,” Blake teases. “We’ll have to work on that.”  
   
Yang grows noticeably hotter. She lowers her voice and says, “Oh? What’re you gonna do - make me _beg_?”  
   
Blake smacks her arm lightly. “ _Yang,_ ” she admonishes, sounding a cross between mildly exasperated and amused. “Ugh.”  
   
She can feel Yang’s body shaking in silent laughter. “Am I getting to you?”  
   
“Yes,” Blake admits shamelessly. “You’re dangerous.”  
   
“That’s what I like to hear.”  
   
“And an egomaniac.”  
   
“I’m fine with that too.”  
   
Blake grins against her shoulder. Yang shifts, and Blake’s head falls to the pillow as she also turns on her side. Yang rests a palm against her cheek and leans in to kiss her once, twice. She says, “Thanks.”  
   
“Of course,” Blake says. “You know I’m always here for you.”  
   
Yang doesn’t respond, only kisses her again, soft and slow like she’s trying to tell Blake something without using words. She pulls away and says, “Stay with me tonight.”  
   
“Okay,” Blake agrees. “What if they catch us?”  
   
“I have an excuse,” Yang says, nuzzling closer to her, the top of her head underneath Blake’s chin.  
   
\--  
   
“Why’s Blake in _your_ bed?” Weiss demands in the morning, staring blearily up at Yang’s bunk in confusion.  
   
“Because I spilled water in hers last night,” Yang grumbles, and Ruby laughs. “Shut up. I’m sleeping.”  
   
Yang’s arm wraps a little tighter around her waist underneath the blanket, and neither of them notice.  
   
\--  
   
Yang starts getting a little bolder, a little more reckless, careless. Like Blake had said: patience isn’t exactly her strong suit, and after two weeks of sort-of secretly dating, she’s growing _bored._ Not of keeping the secret itself - there’s never a time when sneaking around _isn’t_ fun - but of not being able to do things the second she wants to do them.  
   
They originally draw boundaries around Weiss and Ruby, but Ruby leaves to shower one evening and Weiss is doing homework while Blake and Yang relax on Blake’s bunk. They’re both playing a game on their scrolls - some kind of RPG Yang had made her download - when Yang glances up, looks from Weiss’s turned back to Blake’s mouth, and smirks like the devil.  
   
“Don’t you dare,” Blake warns under her breath.  
   
Yang’s fingers curl against her cheek, and she leans in, lips pressing hungrily against Blake’s. Blake responds automatically, doesn’t stop; Yang’s hot and irresistible, and it’s a horrible combination for her self-control.  
   
Yang pulls away and immediately stares back down at her scroll with a look of concentration; Blake’s still gazing at her, slightly out of breath and face warm. Weiss says, “Blake?”  
   
“Uh,” Blake says. Yang carefully layers her expression into one of concern.  
   
“You okay?” she asks, and Blake is absolutely going to kill her later.  
   
“I’m fine,” she says. Weiss goes back to her work without bothering to push it further.  
   
Yang’s giggling silently behind her hand; Blake smiles murderously at her. Yang drops her scroll on the bed and throws herself across Blake without warning, laughing openly.  
   
“Yang, what is _wrong_ with you?” Weiss says exasperatedly. Blake pats the top of her head, grinning despite herself.  
   
“I’m having emotions, Weiss,” Yang declares dramatically. “I’m in need of comfort from my best friend.”  
   
“And tackling me is the best way to get that, is it?” Blake asks.  
   
“Yep,” Yang says cheerfully.  
   
“You two are _so_ weird,” Weiss says, rolling her eyes.  
   
\--  
   
Blake’s having leftover fried rice in the common area when Yang plops in the chair opposite her, fresh out of the shower and toweling her hair. “Your turn,” she says. “Wish you’d have taken me up on my offer, though.”  
   
“To join you?” Blake smirks. “Maybe another time.”  
   
“It’s not as fun when I’m alone,” Yang sighs.  
   
“Like you’d know any differently.”  
   
“Well, I _imagine_ it’s probably going to liven things up a little.” Yang takes Blake’s chopsticks out of her hand, scooping up a large bite. Blake smacks the top of her head lightly. “Delicious,” she says with her mouth full.  
   
“You’re the worst,” Blake says. “Now I’m _definitely_ not having sex with you.”  
   
Yang laughs, runs her leg up the side of Blake’s calf. “Sure,” she says, and winks.  
   
“No, I’m dead serious,” Blake says, insincerity pouring from every word. “I’ve decided I don’t believe in it.”  
   
Yang stands, pushing her chair back, and it scrapes against the tiled floor. “Is that so,” she says, walking around to Blake’s side. She places one hand casually against the tabletop, leaning on it, and the other drags the towel off of her head.  
   
“Yep,” Blake says, attempting to ignore how hot she looks with her hair wild and flowing over her shoulders like water reflecting sunlight. Yang smirks more broadly, bending over her, her stomach and chest pressing against Blake’s back, shoulder.  
   
Yang dips her head and murmurs, “Don’t believe in sex, huh?” and her hand trails up Blake’s neck, tilting her jaw to the side, and, well, Blake’s willpower really isn’t that strong.  
   
She lifts an arm and knots her fingers in Yang’s hair, dragging her mouth to her own and kissing her hotly. A door slams down the hall, and Blake pulls away with a sigh, Yang still grinning like she’s won.  
   
“You’d better go,” she says nonchalantly. “You look like you need to cool off.”  
   
Blake says, “One of these days, you’re going to get what’s coming to you.”  
   
Yang laughs. “I fucking hope so.”  
   
\--  
   
_One of these days_ turns out to be two nights later, when Ruby and Weiss agree to help Jaune and Pyrrha by sparring with them for a few hours after classes. Blake declines, citing a lot of homework; Yang says, “As much as I’d love to kick all your asses, I have a test tomorrow,” which is a lie, but she’d rather stay in their room with Blake, anyway.  
   
Blake watches amusedly as Yang slowly slides her fingers down their light switch, but their curtains are open and the moonlight sinks into her. She says, “So you can see in the dark, right?”  
   
Blake holds back a laugh. “That’s right.”  
   
“I guess there’s no use turning out the lights for sex, then, is there?”  
   
“Well, if it helps you,” Blake says. “It’s atmospheric.”  
   
“I’m all about atmosphere,” Yang says, and sprawls out next to her, laying on her stomach with an arm low over Blake’s waist. “I could light candles.”  
   
“I think Weiss would kill you if you used her candles to seduce me,” Blake points out, turning on her side, resting her cheek against her palm.  
   
“What an accusation,” Yang says theatrically. “I’m not hitting on you. I have a girlfriend, thanks.”  
   
Blake’s mouth quirks. Sometimes Yang’s sense of humor is so stupid but still somehow amusing. “Oh, my mistake. What’s she like? This girl?”  
   
“ _Well,_ ” Yang starts, raising herself up on her elbows, “she’s my best friend, first of all. People think she’s quiet and moody and antisocial, but it’s mostly because they don’t know her. She’s sarcastic and witty and funny - when she wants to be, at least. She’s smarter than anyone else I know at our age, because it’s not just in a booksmart kind of way, but like, experiential, you know? I love listening to her talk and everything she says is interesting.” Yang’s hand slides from her hip up her side, her neck, her jaw. Her voice lowers. “She knows how to comfort me, what to say to calm me down. She humors my bad ideas unless they’re _really_ bad. She tells me the truth, gets me to look at the world a little differently. And she’s, like, beautiful. I mean, when I saw her for the first time - it was like I'd never seen anything beautiful before in my life until then.”  
   
“Wow,” Blake whispers, shivering slightly for reasons she can’t explain. “You make her sound - really incredible.”  
   
“Well, she is,” Yang says quietly, smiling; unexpectedly, Blake realizes she’s playing with the edge of her ribbon, waiting. They lock eyes, and Yang’s expression is clear, like if Blake shows even the slightest sign of discomfort she’ll pull away, shrug it off. Yang continues, “She’s the kind of person you die for. Or, not you, but like, me.”  
   
“Sounds intense,” Blake says, mouth quirking at the dramatism making its return.  
   
“Okay, maybe not like, _die,_ ” Yang says. “Lose a limb, though, definitely.”  
   
Blake giggles, and Yang tugs gently at the ribbon; it unravels slowly. “What limb?”  
   
Yang screws up her face in thought, considering it. “Hmm,” she says, and the ribbon falls away into her hand. “An arm, I think. They’re pretty important to me.”  
   
“Probably to a lot of people, I’d imagine,” Blake says, surprisingly less nervous than she feels, like she’s unweighted a burden. Yang’s fingers brush back over Blake’s cheek, and she pulls her down for a kiss, unhurried and patient.  
   
It’s Blake who deepens it, now exposed and vulnerable and _wanting._ Her tongue slips out across Yang’s lower lip, and she opens her mouth in a sigh, fingers tangling on Blake’s hair. Blake murmurs, “Um, I’ve never slept with a girl before.”  
   
“I figured,” Yang says. “I’ve never slept with anyone before.”  
   
Blake blinks at her. “Really?”  
   
“ _Try_ not to look so surprised,” she drawls, smirking.  
   
“It’s the confidence,” Blake argues mildly. “It throws me off.”  
   
Yang rolls her onto her back, sliding a knee on either side of her hips in a single fluid motion, fingers wrapping around Blake’s wrists. She leans close and says hotly, “I am confident,” and kisses her again, mouth trailing down to her neck. “Confident I can get you off. Figure out what you like. Make you enjoy it.”  
   
“Oh, fuck,” Blake breathes out, entirely by accident. “Yeah. Do that. That sounds - that’s - yeah.”  
   
Yang smiles against her skin, tilts her jaw, and sucks hard on the skin covering her pulse point. Blake bites her lip, fingers digging into Yang’s back. “Fuck,” she says again, knowing that’s going to be difficult to cover. “You fucking - _asshole._ ”  
   
Yang laughs, vibrating her body, and her mouth finds Blake’s again; Blake’s teeth capture her bottom lip and Yang hums low in her throat, but her grip on Blake’s wrists doesn’t loosen. “Is this your thing?” Blake whispers when she breaks the kiss. “Being in control?”  
   
“No,” Yang says, lips curled sensually, eyes flashing red in the darkness. Blake almost moans just looking at her. “You’re always so cool and collected. I want to see what’s underneath.”  
   
“Fuck you, Yang,” Blake breathes out, enthralled.  
   
“Oh,” Yang says, fingers gripping the hem of her shirt and sliding it smoothly overhead, “you will.”  
   
\--  
   
(Yang’s confidence is entirely warranted, but Blake doesn’t tell her that while she’s still quivering underneath her, speechless. Yang smiles and kisses her softly, because it’s more than just sex, more than gratification; Yang recognizes the depth of the act with Blake’s ribbon thrown over the headboard, ears folding against her head. She doesn’t touch them. She says, “I’m gonna take a guess and say that was pretty good for you.”  
   
“Shut up,” Blake mumbles. “I hate you. You and your ego.”  
   
“Hate me? Really?” Yang smirks widely. “That’s not exactly what you were saying a moment ago. I think it was more along the lines of--”  
   
“Repeat it and you’ll get nothing at all,” Blake threatens, and digs her fingernails into Yang’s hips. Yang bites her lip, eyelashes fluttering shut.  
   
Blake sits up, her arms winding around Yang’s waist, lips parting against her collarbone; Yang’s fingers curl in her hair, pressing her closer. Yang throws her head back, Blake’s teeth scraping over her skin in a distinctly dangerous way. Yang’s skin is _burning,_ like she’s smoldering in ember and ash. “You were saying?” Blake asks cruelly.  
   
“Nothing,” Yang manages.  
   
Blake shifts her weight, and Yang understands, sliding off of her to her other side. She looks beautiful in the moonlight, hair messy and mused against Blake’s pillow, eyes faded back to lavender, waiting in trepidation. Blake straddles her hips, lifts a finger underneath Yang’s jaw, forces her to meet her stare. “Being in control might not be your thing,” Blake murmurs, “but it _is_ mine,” and she kisses Yang intensely, tongue sweeping through her mouth, hand traveling down.  
   
“Fuck,” Yang breathes out, pupils blown wide. “Oh, fuck.”)  
   
\--  
   
Weiss and Ruby return to Blake and Yang sitting in Blake’s bunk, Yang with a textbook in her lap and Blake painting her fingernails. The window is open. Three of Weiss’s chamomile-scented candles are lit.  
   
“How was it?” Yang asks, looking up as they enter. “Jaune and Pyrrha any good?”  
   
“His form is definitely improving,” Weiss says. “Pyrrha’s an excellent teacher.”  
   
“We _technically_ won,” Ruby says cheerfully, taking off her hood.  
   
“No,” Weiss counters, “we _would’ve_ lost, if Jaune hadn’t gone down first. It’s mostly for his benefit, so we called the practice there.”  
   
“Well, at least it sounds like it wasn’t a total waste of time,” Blake says, holding up her hand and examining it.  
   
“Nah,” Ruby says. “Can I close the window? It’s cold out.”  
   
“Sure,” Yang says nonchalantly. “It was a little hot in here.”  
   
Weiss glances around at her desk, the windowsill, their dresser. “What’s with the candles?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t be wasteful.”  
   
“Like you don’t have a million of them,” Yang says, rolling her eyes. “They smell nice. And Blake said chamomile’s supposed to be calming or whatever.”  
   
“That’s true,” Weiss allows.  
   
“Test got you a little high-strung?” Ruby asks, rummaging for her pajama shorts.  
   
Yang pauses. “Yeah,” she answers strangely. “The test.”  
   
Blake doesn’t look at her, but the corner of her mouth curls up slowly.  
   
\--  
   
Yang ends up falling asleep in her bed, textbook splayed next to her, head resting on Blake’s pillow. Blake can’t stop staring, enamored with the way her face slips into peacefulness; she’s reminded of that afternoon so long ago and barely distant at all spent actually studying, the same tranquility resting between them, that same calm.  
   
“Yang--” Weiss starts to say, but Blake shushes her quickly, raising a finger to her lips. Weiss glances over, understands.  
   
“Oh,” she whispers. “She’s asleep?”  
   
Blake nods, and resists the urge to reach out, brush her hair away from her face. Ruby asks, “What are you gonna do?”  
   
“Is it weird if I - let her sleep?” Blake says, aiming for uncertainty. She tilts her head like she’s debating it. “She _did_ let me crash in her bed the other night.”  
   
“Nah,” Ruby says. “It’s like a sleepover!”  
   
“She seems like she _has_ been having trouble concentrating lately,” Weiss murmurs. “No, you may be right, Blake. Perhaps it’s best.”  
   
Blake picks up her textbook, noting that it’d been chapters away from anything they’re remotely studying at the moment, and puts it on the bookshelf beside her. She slips underneath the blankets; Yang sleeps on as the other two get ready for bed as quietly as possible.  
   
Blake nudges her awake when Weiss and Ruby are finally passed out across the room, her palm resting on Yang’s cheek, thumb stroking just below her eye. “Hey,” she says.  
   
“Hey,” Yang whispers groggily. “What time is it? Did I fall asleep?”  
   
“It’s after eleven,” Blake answers. “You did. _We all agreed,_ ” she emphasizes, “that it was wise to let you get your rest.”  
   
Yang snickers under her breath. “Nice going.”  
   
“Little tired out, were you?”  
   
Yang’s aura flares up for a split second, like a fire crackling around a new log, the memory alone singeing her skin. “ _Maybe,_ ” she says, and drapes an arm around Blake’s waist, drawing her closer. “Shut up. It was really hot, okay? You’re - good at it.”  
   
“I’m good at sex,” Blake repeats, trying to keep a straight face. Yang burns hotter. “Well, I’ll take the compliment.”  
   
“Fuck you,” Yang says, but she’s laughing. “I’m rolling over. You can have your ego trip to my back.”  
   
“Not yet,” Blake says, smiling, and gently smoothes Yang’s bangs away from her forehead, leaning over her. She leans down and kisses her tenderly, and Yang reciprocates, her palm pressing against the back of Blake’s hand. “Earlier,” Blake murmurs. “You said I was your girlfriend. We haven’t really talked about it, so--”  
   
“You are,” Yang says. “I mean, if you want to be.”  
   
“Oh, no, I got what I came for,” Blake says. “I’m a one-night stand kind of woman.”  
   
“I can’t stand you,” Yang declares, holding back a grin. “How dare you use _me_ for sex. That’s _my_ reputation.”  
   
“Your reputation is all talk,” Blake points out. “I’m literally the only one who can _actually_ say for certain.”  
   
Yang’s eyes glitter at the admission. “You like that, don’t you?” she says, and, oops, _bingo._ “You like being the only one with personal experience when it comes to me.”  
   
Blake squeezes her cheeks together with one hand. “Okay,” she says cheerfully, “your turn to shut up. I barely even like you, period.”  
   
“Really?” Yang says, and takes a breath. “Because I think I’m probably in love with you. And if I’m not now, I will be in like, five minutes, tops.”  
   
It doesn’t scare her; it doesn’t even make her somewhat uncomfortable or nervous to hear. She’d expected it, almost, like it’s been hovering underneath everything this entire time, waiting to be spoken aloud. She thinks of Adam and roses and the wilt of love, and if love was ever present to begin with.  
   
“You know,” she starts, “when I left the White Fang - when I left Adam - I told myself I’d never know love like that again. And I was right. I was barely sixteen, I was dramatic, and I didn’t know nearly as much as I convinced myself I did; I didn’t know love at all.” She brings Yang’s hand to her mouth and kisses it, interlacing their fingers. “This - you - has been better than anything I could’ve imagined. I think I’ve been in love with you since we met.”  
   
“Oh, great,” Yang says, grinning wildly. “I was trying to come off as like, a little blasé, just in case you weren’t really feeling it as intensely as I was. But I’ve definitely been in love with you since, like, forever. Like I was born with it, and then I saw you, and everything finally made sense.”  
   
Blake nuzzles her head underneath Yang’s chin, tossing a leg over her thigh. Yang’s arms wrap around her automatically, and nothing else has ever felt as safe. “So I’m your girlfriend,” Blake murmurs tiredly. “I guess I can live with that.”  
   
“There are worse things,” Yang agrees, pressing her lips to the crown of her head.  
   
\--  
   
In the morning, the first thing Blake hears upon slowly waking up is, “Well, you can hardly blame her, Yang’s like a space heater.”  
   
“Is she really?”  
   
“Yeah, her aura makes her hot,” Ruby whispers. “Quick, take a picture, they’re _so_ cute.”  
   
“We can use it for blackmail,” Weiss says evilly.  
   
“You can’t blackmail us with a picture of us cuddling,” comes Yang’s exhausted voice. “Nice try, though, Weiss.”  
   
“Who said anything about _you_?” Weiss says. “I’ll blackmail Blake. She has an image to uphold.”  
   
“Oh?” Yang asks, and Blake can sense the smirk in her voice. “What image is that?”  
   
“You know,” Weiss says. “She’s too cool and mysterious and closed off to be caught _snuggling._ ”  
   
Ruby laughs at the way she spits out the word. Yang’s chest vibrates underneath her, giggling quietly. “I don’t think that’ll work,” is all Yang says.  
   
“I could see it,” Ruby admits.  
   
“Unfortunately for the two of you,” Blake drawls, adjusting her head in the crook of Yang’s neck, “a photo of me asleep on my _girlfriend_ isn’t really going to get you places.”  
   
Weiss drops her scroll. “Your _what?_ ”  
   
“Surprise,” Yang says, yawning.  
   
“Your _girlfriend_?” Ruby says. “Like, in a romantic way? Like you love each other or something?”  
   
“The ‘ _or something_ ’ part is probably more accurate,” Blake says. Yang flicks her shoulder.  
   
There’s a long moment of silence; Weiss is looking like they’ve startled her soul out of her body, and it’s probably floating somewhere high above them, screaming. Ruby’s eyes grow wider, and wider, and wider, until--  
   
“This is the _best!_ ” she exclaims loudly, pumping a fist in the air. “Oh, _man,_ dad is gonna be _all over_ this. Since I got here he’s been like, make sure you’re eating your vegetables, and brushing your teeth, and going to sleep at a decent hour--” she raises two fingers in air quotes “--’you’re the youngest, Ruby, so you’ve gotta make sure you’re taking care of yourself even when other people aren’t,’ like I get it, dad - but now you’ve got a _girlfriend,_ you’re gonna be getting the third degree, ha-ha! I can’t wait to never receive another text from him again--”  
   
Yang groans. “Shit,” she says. “I didn’t think of that. Fuck.”  
   
“Language, Yang,” Weiss says on autopilot, and then shakes herself out of it. “You’re really _together?_ How long? How - _how?_ ”  
   
“Almost three weeks,” Blake says. “One day, Weiss, you’ll meet someone you like, too.”  
   
“And if you’re due for a miracle,” Yang continues, “they might even like you back.”  
   
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” she hisses. Ruby pokes her between the eyes; Weiss slaps her hand away.  
   
Blake rolls off of her and rubs her face tiredly; Yang stretches her arms above her head, joints popping. She says, “I mean, is is _that_ much of a shock?”  
   
“Yes,” Weiss says, at the same time Ruby says, “Not really.” They exchange a look.  
   
“Yang’s never really been interested in guys,” Ruby explains to her. “She like, pretended she was for awhile, but I could tell.”  
   
Yang laughs at that and Blake says, “We spend a lot of time together. It just happened. I don’t know what else there is to tell, really.”  
   
Weiss considers this for a moment, staring down at the two of them with her arms crossed, expression a mixture of cross and quizzical. “I suppose I never thought anything of it,” she admits finally. “I didn’t think - about the possibility of it. Ever. At all.”  
   
“You’ve probably had less exposure to it,” Blake says calmly, noticing that Weiss’s tone is verging on troubled. Weiss prides herself on her perception, and Blake can sense that the fact that she hadn’t picked up on this is pinching at her, like a dull, prodding needle. She sits up, leaning against the headboard. “I had a less-than-traditional upbringing, and it sounds like Ruby and Yang were in a similar position. I think we were just predisposed to think about it.”  
   
“Hmm,” Weiss says, absorbing the explanation. “That makes sense. My family is nothing if not traditional.” There’s a bitter note in her voice at the end of it. She glances between them. “So you - like, you _like_ each other. You’ve kissed. You’re - there’s an attraction, between you, that is considerably _not_ platonic.”  
   
Yang blinks at her, raising an eyebrow, and then shrugs, turning to Blake; she rests a hand against Blake’s cheek and leans in. Blake says, “I’m not sure she wants a display,” but Yang kisses her anyway, once, sweetly.  
   
“Gross,” Ruby says, sticking out her tongue.  
   
“What d’you think?” Yang says to her teasingly. “Just friends, or…?”  
   
Blake rolls her eyes. “You’re such an idiot,” she says mildly. Weiss’s jaw is on the floor.  
   
“That’s not what I meant!” she says, scandalized and flustered. She’s blushing slightly. “We need to have boundaries!”  
   
“We won’t fuck while you’re in the room,” Yang says. “We made that rule awhile ago.”  
   
“Double-gross,” Ruby says, and mimes vomiting.  
   
Weiss opens and closes her mouth like television quickly changing channels before any sound makes it through the speakers. “I’ve heard enough,” she says, her face burning red, extending to her ears. “Please. I don’t want to know anything else.” She turns on her heel, grabs Ruby by the back of her shirt. “We’re going to breakfast. Goodbye.”  
   
Ruby seems to enjoy Weiss dragging her out the door; it slams when they leave, and they hear Weiss screeching down the hall. Yang laughs loudly, the air light inside of the room, like the sun itself is laying in bed with them. Blake watches her smile, falling onto her back, hair splaying out around her, and says, “Was that alright?”  
   
Yang glances up at her, an eyebrow raised. “Hm?”  
   
“That I told them.”  
   
“Oh, yeah,” Yang says breezily, grinning. “I was kinda leaving it open for you.”  
   
Blake bends down and kisses her again. “I figured it’d be harder to hide,” she says. “After last night.”  
   
“What, afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?” Yang asks, tone teasing. She wiggles her fingers against Blake’s side; Blake grabs her hand and holds it.  
   
“Yes,” Blake says, lips curling. “That’s definitely going to be a problem.”  
   
“I’m obsessed with you,” Yang declares to the empty room, and pulls Blake down to her, her weight nestling comfortably against Yang’s side. Blake trails her fingers slowly across her jawline, her neck, the line of her sternum, over her stomach, her hips. Yang breathes a little less steady and watches her, waits.  
   
“I believe you,” Blake says, smiling dangerously, hand dipping lower.  
   
\--  
   
They skip breakfast entirely and wind up meeting Ruby and Weiss for their class that morning. Weiss throws them quick, fleeting glances from the opposite side of Ruby, like she’s trying to catch them in the act of doing anything other than listening to the lecture. Blake rolls her eyes. Yang holds Weiss’s gaze and stares her down; Weiss flushes hotly and turns back to her work.  
   
Yang and Ruby share the next class before lunch, while Blake and Weiss meet with Pyrrha and Jaune; Yang leans in and kisses her once before they part ways, winking at Weiss looking mortified in the background. Blake smirks and says, “You’re going to kill her, Yang.”  
   
“She’s totally into girls, right?” Yang whispers under her breath.  
   
“Oh, definitely.”  
   
“So we’re helping her with her awakening,” Yang says, and snickers quietly. “C’mon. Kiss me again. I’m not gonna see you until lunch, and that’s, like, two hours from now.”  
   
“How _will_ you survive,” Blake answers sarcastically, but draws Yang’s mouth to hers.  
   
Weiss hisses, “Okay, lovebirds, that’s _quite_ enough. People are staring.”  
   
“Yeah, because we’re so out of their leagues,” Yang says, pulling away. She pats Weiss on the head as she brushes by. “Hang in there, Ice Queen.”  
   
“Hey!”  
   
Blake tries not to laugh at Weiss’s flustered confusion and anger. Pyrrha says hesitantly, “That’s...new, right?”  
   
“Sort of,” Blake says as they walk off down the path, adjusting her bag over her arm. “We’ve been keeping it a secret for a few weeks.”  
   
“Uh,” Jaune says, looking rather shell-shocked, eyes wide and staring blankly. “Congratulations. Or something.”  
   
“She’s screwing with me, right?” Weiss says, ignoring the other two. “That’s why she keeps kissing you in front of me.”  
   
“I mean, I’m pretty sure she _does_ actually like me,” Blake says dryly, “but yeah, she’s fucking with you. She thinks it’s funny watching you freak out. Like you have no idea how to react or something.”  
   
“Well, I don’t!” Weiss says, harrumphing. “It’s not that I don’t support you, or anything, it’s just - it’s hard to wrap my head around!” She eyes Jaune and Pyrrha. “Can I get a little help, here? Any backup?”  
   
“Sorry, Weiss,” Jaune says apologetically, “but I don’t think there’s a single person at this school who’d turn _Yang_ down. She’s so cool and intimidating. And she’s, like, mega-hot. No offense, Blake.”  
   
“None taken.”  
   
“I have to agree,” Pyrrha says, shrugging. “I can understand it perfectly. They complement each other.”  
   
“Yeah, that’s it!” Jaune says, excited in his own understanding. “Blake, you have that whole mysterious and dark thing going for you. Like you’re a challenge, or something, and Yang seems like the type to love a challenge.”  
   
Blake smiles idly. “You’re not wrong.”  
   
Weiss curls her lip. “ _Ugh,_ ” she says. “Can’t you do something about her? She’s _your_ girlfriend, after all.”  
   
“No,” Blake says. “I think it’s funny, too.”  
   
“You’re the _worst,_ ” Weiss seethes.  
   
Jaune and Pyrrha laugh, Pyrrha at least attempting to quiet hers out of respect for Weiss’s feelings; Blake takes pity on her and says, “Look, we’re not _only_ doing it to bother you. We’re just doing what people normally do when they like each other.”  
   
Pyrrha pushes open the large door and holds it for them; Weiss follow her in, thinking. “I suppose that’s fair,” she grumbles, acquiescing. They walk up the steps to their normal rows, taking their seats. “I just - I don’t have a point of reference. How did you even know you liked her?”  
   
Blake blinks, taken aback by Weiss’s honest interest. Maybe Yang’s right, and her awakening really isn’t so far off after all. She pulls her notebook out of her bag and taps her pen against the page, contemplating. Weiss is leaning her chin on her palm, elbow propped up against the desk, waiting.  
   
“I’ve always been attracted to her,” Blake answers finally, taking great care in forming her words. “Yang’s...gorgeous. Objectively so. And then I found I actually _liked_ spending time with her. She made me feel comfortable, liked listening to what I had to say, like it really mattered to her.” Weiss nods to herself, like she’s keeping up with the explanation so far. Blake continues quietly, “I think there’s something addicting about being the center of someone else’s attention. Normally that sort of thing...irritates me. People exhaust me easily. But Yang was never one of them. I _wanted_ to be around her, I wanted her to look at me, I wanted her to care. I wanted her to drag me out in the rain. I wanted to kiss her. I think it’s hard to _not_ know, after all of that _wanting_.”  
   
Weiss considers her a moment longer, blue eyes darting between her own, bottom lip pulled into her mouth. “Okay,” she says, lifting her head back up. “I think - I understand.”  
   
“Really?” Blake asks.  
   
“Yes,” Weiss murmurs as their professor strolls into the room. “Yang’s different. You recognized that.” She pauses again. “You were pretty lonely before you met her, weren’t you?”  
   
“Before I met _all_ of you,” Blake corrects. “But yes. I was.”  
   
“And you’re not now?”  
   
Blake’s scrolls lights up on the table between them with a message from Yang containing a single heart.  
   
“No,” Blake says softly, smiling down. “Not anymore.”  
   
\--  
   
Weiss is mostly mollified the rest of the day, though Blake _does_ catch her staring at them during lunch like she’s still trying to unravel them, like an equation she can’t quite solve, missing digits and decimals. Yang picks fries off of Blake’s plate as they idly discuss dinner plans, seemingly unconcerned now that her fun of the day has been had.  
   
“I’m thinking sushi,” Yang’s saying. “Does that sound good to you?”  
   
“Absolutely,” Blake says. “I’ll pay. You got the last one.”  
   
“Blake Belladonna,” Yang says, pretending to be scandalized. “Are you asking me out on a _date?_ ”  
   
“Why?” Blake shoots back. “Are you going to say no if I am?”  
   
“No.”  
   
“No?”  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
“Yeah?”  
   
“Can you two knock it off?” Weiss says, scowling; Ruby is laughing loudly at the exchange. “Good grief. Listening to you stupidly-in-love idiots trying to have a conversation is giving me literal brain damage.”  
   
“Who says we’re in love?” Yang responds.  
   
“I can barely tolerate her,” Blake answers.  
   
“Oh, shut up,” Weiss says, and sputters, “Look at your - your _faces._ ”  
   
Blake and Yang glance at each other; Yang raises her eyebrows, lips in a mild frown of contemplation.  
   
“Hm,” Yang says, tapping her fingers on the table rhythmically. She squints like she’s examining Blake’s features, and then nods to herself. “Yeah. I see what you mean.”  
   
“And what’s that?” Blake asks.  
   
“You’re hideous,” Yang says.  
   
“You’re no prize either.”  
   
“Oh my God,” Weiss says, fingers pressing against her temples. “This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”  
   
\--  
   
Yang’s face pops up on her scroll during her final lecture of the day along with a text that reads: _what do u want today? im doing watermelon_  
   
_Strawberry and kiwi,_ she texts back carefully, making sure she won’t be seen.  
   
_ok got u ;)_  
   
She’s still not quite used to this - having someone so enthusiastic in their attention to her - that she almost can’t believe it’s real, can’t understand the passion for detail. But Yang isn’t afraid of letting her heart loose, allowing it out in the open where other people can see it, observe it, like she’s casually tossed it to Blake and said _here, hold this._ It’s genuine and unapologetic and shameless. It’s a total lack of fear.  
   
Maybe that’s what love does to you, Blake idly thinks. Maybe it makes you brave.  
   
\--  
   
Yang’s waiting for her as she always does by the entrance, standing slightly off to the side; it takes Blake a minute to realize she isn’t alone; a boy Blake doesn’t recognize is standing in front of her, chatting her up. His posture is arrogant and and aggressive, like he’s trying to make himself seem bigger, more powerful. Blake doesn’t really need to guess what’s happening here.  
   
Yang spots her around the boy’s arm and smiles widely. “Sorry,” Blake hears her say, “I know you were probably getting around to asking me out or something, but my girlfriend’s here, so I have to go. See you around,” and she brushes by him without so much as a glance back, leaving him stunned into silence.  
   
Yang hands Blake her drink, drops her head to kiss her briefly. “You know,” she says, “it’s _way_ easier blowing off guys now. Before I’d just have to be like, uh, not interested pal, and now I can just be like, yeah, I have a girlfriend, and she’ll kick your ass.”  
   
The boy looks over at them, flushes, and quietly makes his exit with the rest of the fleeing class. Blake smiles cutely. “I’d rather not get into any unnecessary fights, but I’ll make an exception for you.”  
   
Yang says seriously, “Babe, it’s my dream to watch you fight some dude for my affection.”  
   
Blake takes her hand, interlacing their fingers as they stroll down the path to their dorms. “‘Babe,’” she quotes.  
   
“I’m trying it out,” Yang shrugs. “Usually I save ‘sweetheart’ or ‘beautiful’ for when I’m hitting on you, so I’m going for something more casual.”  
   
“I see,” Blake says, holding back a laugh as she sips from her drink. “Well, the next _dude_ that asks you out is going to have to get through me.”  
   
“Hot,” Yang says, grinning. “And you’ll win and we’ll walk off hand-in-hand and have, like, incredible sex from the adrenaline of it.”  
   
“How romantic,” Blake deadpans, but finally breaks and laughs, and extends her drink. “Let me try yours.”  
   
They swap. Yang wraps her lips suggestively around the straw and looks at her, raising her eyebrows. Blake does the same thing, mirrors her right back, and Yang chokes. It’s decidedly unsexy, and so she bursts into giggles, Yang joining her when she’s no longer coughing.  
   
“You could’ve killed me,” Yang says. “Warn a girl before pulling a move like that.”  
   
“Clearly I need to spend more time seducing you,” Blake says. “You’re too easy, Yang.”  
   
“Only with you,” Yang says, and stops suddenly, tugging on Blake’s hand. Blake turns, and Yang dips her head to kiss her once, slow and languid and soft.  
  
“Hey,” Blake says, a question striking her she’d been meaning to ask anyway. “Why haven’t you tried to touch my ears?”  
   
Yang knits her eyebrows together, slightly perplexed. “Do you want me to?”  
   
“Oh - no, it’s not that,” Blake says. “It’s just something I feel like - people normally try to do.”  
   
“Oh, I see,” Yang says, easing into understanding. “Well, I wouldn’t go around stroking someone’s human ears, so I just figured…” she trails off, pausing to collect her words. “Just because yours are cat’s ears, too, doesn’t mean I can treat you like a pet or something.”  
   
Blake stares, overwhelmed, heart beating so furiously it’s like it wants to rip itself out and live underneath Yang’s skin.  
   
“What?” Yang asks, noticing the look.  
   
“You’re perfect,” Blake says.  
   
Yang kisses her again. “Love you,” she says, grinning as she pulls away.  
   
“Oh, love you,” Blake sighs, fingers gripping Yang’s just a little tighter.  
   
\--  
   
“Ground rules,” Weiss announces to the room that evening.  
   
“Oh, here we go,” Yang says from Blake’s bed, where she’s actually trying to work. Blake glances up to meet Weiss’s eyes, intrigued and a little hesitant to hear what she has to say.  
   
“Ground rules for what?” Ruby asks, dangling halfway over the edge of her bunk.  
   
“Your sister and Blake,” Weiss says. “Since they’re...dating.”  
   
“What do they need rules for?” Ruby says, screwing up her face in confusion. “I think they probably know what they’re doing.”  
   
“No, you dolt,” Weiss says, exasperated. “Rules for them in regards to _us_. You know. Respect!”  
   
“I totally respect you,” Yang says, raising a hand.  
   
“Sure,” Weiss answers, rolling her eyes. “Look. I only have two.”  
   
“Okay,” Blake says, leaning comfortably back against Yang’s chest. “Let’s hear them.” Yang puts her pencil down, waits, her chin lightly resting on the top of Blake’s head out of the way of her ears.  
   
Weiss says, “Don’t try anything while Ruby and I are in the room.”  
   
“I promise you that’s a turn-off anyway,” Yang says, and Blake elbows her gently in the stomach.  
   
“Two,” Weiss says threateningly, “don’t do _anything_ on our beds. Stick to your side of the room, please. I’m begging you.”  
   
“I think we can manage that,” Blake says, Yang snickering behind her.  
   
“Three--”  
   
“I thought there were only two--” comes Ruby’s voice.  
   
“--I don’t care if you sleep in the same bed,” Weiss says, growing quieter, less dangerous. “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t have your own space to do normal things people get to do. So - don’t feel like you need to lie, or sneak around, or anything like that.” Yang and Blake stare at her with eerily similar expressions of surprise. Weiss huffs. “Stop looking at me like that. It’s creepy.”  
   
“I didn’t see this coming, is all,” Yang says, and holds up her scroll. “I already had alarms set for when I should climb back into my own bed.”  
   
“Well, delete them,” Weiss answers crossly. “I’ll be _furious_ if you wake us all up at the crack of dawn for that.”  
   
“Yes ma’am.” Yang very deliberately swipes her screen, turning off her alerts.  
   
Weiss rolls her eyes, uncrossing her arms. “There’s no need for mockery,” she says.  
   
“I’m not,” Yang replies, her tone gentler. “That’s pretty cool of you, Weiss. Thanks.”  
   
She’s silent for a moment, staring at Yang’s arm wrapping around Blake’s stomach, Blake’s fingers resting lightly on Yang’s knee. “It’s nothing,” she says finally, and turns away, back to her desk. “Don’t make me regret it.”  
   
\--  
   
“Oooh, it’s the couple of the hour,” Nora sing-songs as they sit down with their trays for lunch. She holds up a grape in her hand, tossing it toward Yang, who catches it in her mouth.  
   
“What are you talking about?” Blake asks, spearing her fish on the end of her fork.  
   
“ _E_ _veryone’s_ talking about it,” Nora says conspiratorially.  
   
“Apparently that third-year you blew off yesterday told his friends, who told their friends, who told _their_ friends,” Pyrrha recounts for them apologetically. “So the entire school is aware of your...relationship.”  
   
“It’s why everyone is staring at you,” Ruby explains helpfully. Blake glances over her shoulder, and sure enough, half the students in the vicinity quickly look away. Her mouth half-curls at the corner, amused; apparently she always seems to date people who cause the biggest scene.  
   
“I hope you’re happy,” Weiss says.  
   
Yang shrugs half-heartedly. “I am,” she says cheerfully. “Maybe the third years will stop asking me out.”  
   
“That’d be appreciated,” Blake says. “I don’t really want to have to fight anyone.”  
   
Yang smirks over at her. “But you _could,_ though, right?”  
   
“Oh, absolutely,” Blake says, eyes flashing dangerously, smiling with her teeth. “And I’d win.”  
   
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Nora asks, laughing.  
   
“Yang wants me to fight someone for her affection,” Blake says, and rolls her eyes. “Like she can’t rip anyone who touches her apart with her bare hands.”  
   
Ruby snickers into her salad. Apparently Weiss is rubbing off on her, because they have similarly-stacked plates. “Yeah, for real. Yang should be fighting someone for _your_ affection.”  
   
“I’ll do it!” Yang says, and flexes an arm. “I’ll fight someone right now!”  
   
“Oh! Oh! Me!” Nora exclaims. “Fight me! I’ve totally been in love with Blake for _ever_ \--”  
   
“Wait,” Ren says, “what’s happening?”  
   
“ _Yes,_ ” Yang hisses, and slams her elbow down on the table. Half the hall is now watching them. “A contest of _strength._ ”  
   
“This is the stupidest thing the two of you have ever done,” Weiss says, looking like she’s seconds away from giving up on them entirely.  
   
Nora slams her palm against Yang’s, and Ruby says, “Okay, on three - hands behind your backs, ladies - winner gets Blake or whatever--”  
   
“Thanks for this,” Blake tells Yang. “You’d better win, or I’m breaking up with you.”  
   
Needless to say, Yang _does_ win the arm wrestle; she places a loud, obnoxious kiss on Blake’s lips when she does, laughing the entire time.  
   
“Sweetheart,” she says contentedly, “I’m never giving you up.”  
   
\--  
   
Blake doesn’t tell Sun _all_ of it, but enough that he’s left with the general idea.  
   
“That’s cute,” Sun says, grinning, pushing his empty ramen bowl away from him. “So, Yang, have people stopped asking you out?”  
   
“No!” she says exasperatedly. “I mean, it was fine for awhile, but a rumor started that we were only dating for like, attention or something, and then it was hell for _both_ of us.”  
   
“Did you end up fighting anyone?” Sun directs at Blake.  
   
“Yes,” she says, smirking. “Another first year in our sparring class who started the rumor.”  
   
“She demolished him,” Yang adds. “I’ve never been more proud. It was hot.”  
   
“I’ll bet,” Sun says appreciatively. “Damn, Blake. I like that. Teach ‘em some fucking respect.”  
   
“I’m saying,” Yang agrees, and signals the owner with a smile; he passes her the bill and she tosses a few lien down on the table. Sun starts to object, but she shakes her head, stopping him. “Dude, it’s cool,” she says nicely. “It was fun hanging out with you. Plus, it was my turn to pay, and I basically forced you to eat with us.”  
   
Blake smiles at him. “When we all go out,” she says, “you can buy us drinks. How’s that sound?”  
   
“Done and done,” he says. “Gimme your digits, fools. This has been a blast. It’s much better having the both of you as friends.”  
   
He watches them walk away, hand-in-hand, and knows he’d never stood a chance to begin with. The thought doesn’t bother him at all.  
   
\--  
   
They all go to the dance as a big group in the end, anyway.  
   
Blake and Yang, Weiss and Neptune - after tearfully telling her he couldn’t dance for shit and she’d laughed, uncaring - him and Ruby. Neptune sits the first few out - he’s not nearly drunk enough for this, he says - and so Ruby drags Weiss out onto the dance floor, twirling her and laughing and steadying herself on Weiss’s shoulders in heels she swears she can barely stay upright in. Weiss only blushes slightly but smiles, allows herself to be swept along.  
   
He dances with Blake, and then Yang, and she’d been right - the both of them look _incredible._ They only have eyes for each other, though, and there’s something subtle about it, something quiet and soft, something that speaks to war, to struggle, to a final, deeper peace. Blake sinks into Yang’s arms and smiles.  
   
“Hey, Sun,” Pyrrha’s voice calls from over his shoulder. She walks up next to him, smiling nicely. “How’s your evening going?”  
   
“Hey, Pyrrha,” he says, glancing at her with a grin. “It’s been fun as hell. You look great, by the way.”  
   
“Oh, thanks,” she says appreciatively, and notices where his line of sight had been previously. “Still hung up on Blake?” she teases without malice.  
   
“Nah,” he says, turning back to them swaying on the dance floor. “That’s not it.”  
   
She raises her eyebrows. “So what is?”  
   
He watches Yang brush her hair out of her eyes, index finger slipping underneath her chin and tilting her jaw up, her hands resting on the front of Yang’s shoulders, and her eyes - unbearably, undeniably in love. Yang kisses her like she’s aware other people are in the room, but they aren’t nearly as important, don’t deter her the slightest. He knows he hadn’t heard the full story from them, and he thinks about the truth, thinks that whatever it may be is something they’d had to survive to find each other, something they’d fought for just to be here at all. Something too precious to share.  
   
He asks, “Do you believe in destiny?”  
   
She pauses, observing him for a moment, gaze darting between the girls and back.  
   
“Yes,” she says softly, understanding. “I do. Do you?”  
   
Yang twirls Blake once in a careful circle and pulls her back in, murmuring something that brings a laugh tugging at the corners of Blake’s mouth.  
   
“Yeah,” he says finally, smiling. “I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> title from seeing stars by børns.


End file.
